


Bricolage

by EidolO



Category: Zootopia
Genre: Pack Street, Pack Street Fanverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-24 11:53:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 55
Words: 40,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14354910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EidolO/pseuds/EidolO
Summary: Side story vignettes prior to and intermingling with Pack Street, focusing on Avo and an outsider. Explores the treatment of predators during and following the Savage incidents, as well as recovery from recent and past trauma.Chronology:Chapters 1-16[Pack Street Begins]Chapters 17-26[Pack Street: Chapter 21]Chapters 27-35[Pack Street: Chapter 26]Chapters 36-40[Pack Street: Chapter 27]Chapters 41-51[Pack Street: Chapter 28]Chapters 52-





	1. Catecholamine

Do you ever have those moments? Alone in a room, nothing around except a phone or a computer screen or a TV. Sun sets, but you don’t turn on a light. Screen goes black, but you don’t wake it up. You don’t even move. In fact, you can’t even move.

You just sit, frozen. 

Thoughts take ages to come and go.

You might as well have slipped into a catatonic state.

But your mind is still telling you to move, somewhere deep inside. It’s still telling you to wake up, do something, anything at all. 

Yet you don’t move a muscle. In fact, they stiffen. You know that you can move. Yet it’s somehow unimaginable. 

It’s like you’re looking, but you aren’t seeing anything. You’re hearing, but you aren’t listening. Your heart beats rapidly like you’re falling, but you can’t even stand. A panic attack that locks you in place.

Then, out of the corner of your eye through a layer of shitty blinds, there’s color. 

Bright colors peeking through. Businesses opening for the night. Sahara Square coming to life. It takes you out of the trance for a moment, and for that moment, you feel like you’ve regained control. You can turn your head. You can breathe again. But it’s only long enough to get a single impulse through. There’s no choice but to make it count.

I’ve had too many of these moments. Like pockets of lost time. Hours of nothing.

So, I made a resolution. 

I chose to do something I didn’t think I could handle. Something that would force me out of that space. Something that gave me no choice but to act.

***

“And with that, I think it’s time we...” She stopped suddenly halfway through, grinning like she’d just won the lottery. “But what have we here? It would seem the private session incentive has just been bought out,” she gazed into the camera from the other side of the bed. “Which means one of you will get an hour with me all to yourself.” On all fours she prowled, a lascivious smile on her face. “Hope you can handle it,” she purred into the mic. With a blown kiss, the stream cut off.

A chill ran down his spine. He subconsciously clutched his heart as if he could slow it down.

Perhaps this was a mistake.


	2. Effervescence

Isaac...

“Isaac, hold on,” his mother called out, catching him by the shoulder when he stopped. It sent a jolt down his spine, but he turned. She looked him in eye. “Things are going to be different here. People might treat us differently than they did back home.”

“Okay,” the young bat replied.

She sighed, a concerning melancholy in her caring gaze. “I know the others gave you a hard time back then, but now-“

“You’re scared things will be reversed,” he finished her thought in a neutral tone.

She tried to give him a smile. It was bittersweet. “The world’s changed a lot, but some things haven’t yet. I want you to be careful. We don’t want to give others any reason for mistrust.”

“I understand.”

After a pause, she continued, “I want you to watch out for her. Back home she may have been accepted and understood, but here, there may be those who are less understanding.”

Her son nodded solemnly. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to her.”

She drew him in for a hug. “Alright. I love you. Have a good day, and make a good impression. First impressions mean a lot for us. You’ll be fighting against things we didn’t back home.”

Mimicking her earlier, he produced his own bittersweet smile. “You know me. They won’t even know I’m there. And I’ll make sure she stays out of trouble.”

She gently released him. “Good.”

As he caught up to the bus stop, another female bat awaited him. She asked, “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” he said.

She smiled. A genuine, reassuring smile. Her fangs peeked through. “You excited?”

He tried to return it. “I don’t know if that’s the right word.”

“Everything will be fine.”

Trust me...


	3. An Interesting Evening

“How’s this sound?”

She sat herself in the center of the frame, judging her positioning from the preview window of her streaming program. As she spoke, two green bars in the mixer window reacted favorably. A young man’s voice piped in over her laptop’s built-in speakers.

“Perfect.”

Leaning back on the bed, Avo sighed. “Well shit. That took longer than expected.” She checked herself in the preview, twisting her body and posing seductively. Seemingly satisfied, her expression changed to a sly grin as she spread her legs in a lewd display. “Hope you enjoyed the show at least.”

“I’m gonna be honest, I’ve had you minimized for a while now.”

“Wow, just wow,” she scoffed, though somewhat amused. “Real nice use of your money right there.”

Her audience of one attempted to rationalize. “Only way I can chat with you without others interrupting. And there’s no good way to contact you otherwise, considering.” Giving contact info to clients would be a huge hazard. She definitely wouldn’t want any of the people who watch her to know anything that could put her in danger. But, his actions were strange enough to leave her intrigued.

She stretched briefly and fell sideways on the mattress. The wolf ran a claw sensually up the naked contours of her side, as if to confirm he wasn’t watching. With a smirk, she unwrapped a sucker from a large bag that sat beside the bed. “I mean, hey, I got paid, and I guess my setup got an upgrade. Probably should’ve fucking paid you instead.”

“Oh, you will,” he mused wryly. “I expect a check in the mail for my services.”

“Really know how to woo a gal. Isaac, right?” She rolled onto her stomach, holding her head in her paws with an curious expression. She skeptically stared into the lens of the camera. “Seriously though, you’re getting nothing out of this if I am to believe what you’re saying. I mean, for all I know you could’ve been whacking off this entire time, but what’s your deal?”

“Well...” She could hear him shuffle in his seat on the other end. He started off like a child who’d just been caught in a white lie, “The truth is, I always had to have your stream audio muted, because the sound quality was just so bad. Awful. I had to get by on picture alone.” And he’d gone from zero to sixty on the snark.

“Well fuck you too,” she playfully interjected with a toothy grin.

Then there was a bit of hesitation in his voice, as if he was less sure of himself. “But now that that’s fixed, I actually get to listen to your lovely voice.”

Her smile softened. “Little late for sweet talking, isn’t it?”

His tone slowly became more earnest. “I just kind of wanted to talk to you. Like, actually talk. Not whatever happens in that chat.”

“Oh my, what a deviant.” She rolled the sucker from one side of her mouth to the other with her tongue. “And why’s that?”

A short silence fell between them. She figured he was either thinking it through or losing his nerve. Then, he finally spoke up. “I don’t know. I just had this compulsion. Like, I need to talk to her. I’m not even much of a talker, but some little part of me said do it.”

Surprisingly candid, but she couldn’t resist. “Oh I’m sure we both know what part was involved in that, sweetie,” she teased with a lewd gesture, whether he could see it or not.

She could hear him suppress a laugh on the other end. “Damn, you got me pegged,” he joked back, emphasizing “pegged” like it was a pun. “But hey, so far no regrets.”

“Good. I don’t do refunds.” She kicked her feet, contemplating something. Grabbing a small object from the bedside table, she fiddled with it for a couple seconds before getting up. She snapped her fingers twice to get his attention and walked to the camera. “Hey, Mr. Deviant. Pull up my window again.”

He hesitated, but seemed to comply. “Alright.”

To his surprise, he found her phone taking up most of the camera frame. On its screen she’d neatly left ten digits.

She smiled, “This might be more cost effective in the future. Name’s Avo.”

***

“You’re joking, right? Avo, you gave this guy your fucking phone number?” Betty practically scolded her.

Avo looked up from her phone, oddly unsurprised by her friend’s sudden admonishment. She hissed sarcastically, “Ooo, got a problem with that? Scared I’m getting more action than you?”

The wolf was unamused, wide-eyed and pointing at her. She held her cigarette between her teeth. “Avo, I’m being fuckin’ dead-ass serious here.”

“Relax, he’s harmless,” Avo tried to brush it off and simultaneously reassure her.

Betty wasn’t having it. “And how would you know?”

Avo sighed and got up. “I’ve already talked to the guy. Plus, I’m pretty sure he’s smaller than me.” She held up two claws for emphasis like she was holding a quarter between them.

“Big fuckin’ whoop!” With her cigarette now in hand, Betty gesticulated emphatically. “I told you that I’ve heard people are going missing. Preds like us.” She pointed sharply at Avo and then herself.

“I didn’t give him my address or anything!” Avo groaned, “You don’t gotta mom me like I don’t know what I’m doing.” She empathetically put a hand on Betty’s shoulder and met her eyes.

After a moment, Betty’s scowl turned into a sort of tired, sad expression. She sighed deeply and took a drag of her cig. “I know. I know. Just be careful. Something stinks.”

“No shit. But, look,” she started reassuringly. “The guy was a dork. You know me, B. I’m good at reading people, and this guy was alright. No bullshit, I could hear it in his voice.” She let go of Betty’s shoulder and gave her a smile. “He helped me out, went out of his way with money out of his pocket to just talk to me.”

Still skeptical, the wolf sighed begrudgingly in concession. “Alright, alright. But I got my eye on you two.” She grumbled under a billow of smoke, sitting back down on the stairs outside the apartment. “Fucking know how wet you are for fuckin’ honesty.”

Avo’s smile transformed into a shit-eating grin. “Oh yeah, fuck,” she melodramatically moaned, “tell me how it is some more, Betty.” She brushed up against her, only for Betty to shove her off. Avo cackled and sat herself on the cold stoop alongside her.


	4. Chiroptera

Bats... bats have never really been in a good place. My family told me to fly under the radar, to not draw attention to myself. I was never all that social, so I took to it easily enough. My senses were always on edge, anyway, as if everything was amplified, so I was already prone to shying away. I didn’t think much of it before, but I gradually understood why I was told to do so.

Among bats, there are those who feed on fruit. There are those who feed on bugs. But there are also those who feed on blood. As a result, centuries upon centuries of superstition, mistrust, and alienation has plagued us, from the other species and within our own. Despite predators overcoming their primal instinct thing, the vampire bats can’t escape who they are, what their bodies need to survive. Yeah, they need blood, yet they never killed or consumed other mammals like the others in forgotten eras. But the truth still stands that they stole from the others. Because of this, we got left behind when the world moved forward.

Our genes mixed over time, and the borders between the vampire bats, the fruit bats, and the insectivores blurred. Some of our people welcomed the vampires, hoping to maintain a sense of solidarity amongst us. Others treated them like pariahs, shunned and exiled. We saw how the other species looked at bats as a whole because of them, and in our own ignorance, let it mold our self perceptions. The negative stereotypes spread to appearances, and traits not limited to the vampires became conflated with them. Those of us with more pleasing, traditionally mammalian features were more readily welcomed than our brothers and sisters with naked faces and sinewy flesh by society. It became a standard of beauty to have long fur, to have large eyes, to have a longer face. Those like me are called flying foxes, as if to not lump us in with the others. We were foxes to them now, not bats.

There were those who still feared bats from the old stories and prejudices of the past. Yet there were also those who in some ways idolized us, put us on a pedestal for being different. We could fly, we could echolocate. It set us apart, and there were those who thought we were special. Yet even they refused to recognize that they turned us into objects, aliens, a spectacle rather than a people.

And it continues to this day. We were told not to seek attention, because with attention, old wounds resurface. But by not seeking attention, those old wounds sealed in an infection, solidified without any push against it. We hoped that with time people would forget. But we alienate our own for not adhering to the standards of mammalian society. We hide or shun those who bear the shame of vampirism in mixed company, despite there now being ways to live without taking from others. I am privileged to look the way I do, to be the way I am. But I have seen my own friends and family rejected and erased. I still see the way that people look at us, how they look at me. Perhaps it really is unavoidable. Nothing ever changes enough.


	5. Fumbling

“So I gave you my number, but I’ve got a caveat for you.”

“This is so sudden, but okay, I can do a private striptease for you too,” Isaac’s icon lit up on her phone as he sassed.

“Shush, you,” she smirked. “Now I know you’re probably intimately familiar with what I look like.” She tapped one of her claws arrhythmically on the armrest of the couch.

“I somewhat embarrassingly can admit that.”

“Hey, you’re the one who opened the can of worms that is trying to befriend your favorite cam girl,” she shot back. With a snap of her fingers, she diplomatically finished, “Best come to terms with it. And with her.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded.

“Anyway the caveat is you’re gonna have to show me what you look like.” Without hesitation, she tacked on, “Also, you didn’t deny that I’m your favorite, so thank you for that.”

They sat in silence. Isaac took a moment to actually respond. “Like right now?”

“Yes,” Avo responded as if obvious.

“On video?”

“Yes.” She lightly rubbed two claws together on her right hand, nonchalantly inspecting their pristine polish. “No reason for nerves. I’m not asking you to drop your pants on camera or something. I’d just like a face to go with the voice.” Her tone was almost transactional.

Isaac replied, though sounding empty, “Okay...”

She let a few more moments pass. Avo glanced back at the still blank call window of her phone and sighed. “No pressure. Unless you’re disfigured or something. But even then.”

“Alright,” Isaac exhaled.

“You good? Am I asking too much?”

“No, it’s okay. I’d already planned on switching to video. I’ve just got nerves.” Sure enough, she could hear the nerves in his voice. It shook, very subtly, but enough that one could pick up something wasn’t right. Part of her thought he might be hiding something, but based on their previous interactions, he seemed pretty up-front about things. Uncharacteristically, at least so far, skittish now.

“C’mon, I won’t bite. Well, not physically. That costs extra.” She playfully snapped her teeth. “Now sack up and show me that ugly mug.”

“Alright...” With one last deep breath from the other side of the phone, she saw the voice icon begin to swirl, indicating a loading video.

She momentarily closed her eyes in a combination of victory and relief. “There, you see...” But she stopped mid-sentence, finally staring at him. Two big, brown eyes. A long, almost vulpine face, but with these small flared nostrils. A thick collar of dark fur that had sort of a reddish hue in the lighting. Most interestingly, wings. She almost needed to do a double take to put it all together. Leathery wings draped down from what she could see of his lanky arms. She nearly stammered, “Sorry, uh. Huh.”

He glanced off to the side and hid his mouth behind one wing, as if that concealed anything. He murmured, “This isn’t very reassuring.”

Unfortunately, she was mesmerized by the way the light sort of shone through the wing, accenting the odd bone structure beneath and creating an orangish-red glow. Realizing her fixation was becoming apparent, she pushed a couple words out to cover herself. “No, sorry, I just wasn’t expecting... so you’re a bat?”

“Yes,“ he meekly began.

“I mean, like a full-fledged bat, not...” She trailed off, unsure of what words should follow.

He dropped the wing and tried giving her a weak smile. Little fangs gleamed through. “Yeah. Most people took to calling us flying foxes, but it’s kind of a stupid term.” Almost reflexively, he raised the wing again, “Still sounds better than megabats. It feels like some kind of kids’ superhero show.”

“Oh,” she succinctly replied. For a while it felt like neither of them could find the next thing to say. Finally she realized there’d only been silence for half a minute. “I haven’t seen many bats in person before, so forgive me if I’m... Fuck, if I’m being weird about it.”

“Bats don’t have much visibility. Outside of people occasionally going, ‘Hey look, it’s a bat.’”

“Yeah, no, I get that.” It was odd. She’d never really thought about bats before, like about them in the city. It was strangely easy for her to forget they’re actually out there, part of society, given how foreign they felt. They should stand out, if anything, shouldn’t they?

Isaac interrupted her train of thought, twiddling the large talons at the tips of his wings. “I’m sorry for catching you off guard.”

“Wha? Sorry nothing, I’m the one being fucking weird about it.” She kept trying to find a way back into normal conversation, but it became harder as she felt increasingly guilty for reacting the way she did. Especially after all the pressure she put on him. Prey always treated exotic preds like her like some sort of spectacle, but here she was herself, gawking. “Just unexpected.”

“I can turn off the camera,” he meekly offered, apparently feeling some guilt as well in throwing off the vibe.

She instinctively held up her hand to stop him. “No, no, don’t. It’s okay,” she reassured. Think, Avo. Make him feel more comfortable. “You’re, uh, actually kind of cute?” Realizing too late that that may have been a misstep, she swore she could actually see his cheeks redden under the black fur.

“I’m turning off the camera.”


	6. Fragmentary

“...That’ll be two fifty for- oh, shit, dude.”

“What?” Isaac looked around warily following the gas station clerk’s sudden fascination.

He was a young serval guy, probably a teen and definitely hopped up on something. “Sorry, I just.” He gesticulated lazily. “You’re a bat, right?”

“Yes,” he taciturnly replied, clutching a fruit bar and bottled tea awkwardly in each talon. 

The cashier reached out for his card. Isaac fumbled the drink bottle onto the counter and pulled it out. “Just a bat?”

“Just?” Isaac raised an eyebrow at the question as the guy tapped some numbers on the register keypad.

The serval smacked the enter key with a weird smile and pushed the card back to him across the counter. “I mean, you’ve got wings and the ears but you don’t look like a bat-bat.”

Isaac ignored the smile and quickly pocketed the card. “I’m just a bat.”

Handing off the receipt, he chuckled, clearly amused. “Damn. Sorry, dude, no disrespect.” Isaac pocketed the receipt as well and grabbed the drink back off the counter. He wanted to disengage, but the clerk kept talking. “You just don’t see bats outside the Nocturnal District, and even then. How are you out during the day. You’re sure you aren’t a hybrid or something? I’m not having a bad trip right now, am I?”

“Just a bat,” Isaac sighed, about to leave.

“Huh.” As if it suddenly occurred to him, he asked, “Hey, show me your wings.”

Isaac gave a melancholic shrug and extended his arms. His wings unfolded underneath. Light passed through, showing off the long bones and veins.

The clerk stared somewhat agog. “Holy shit dude, that is freaky. Your arms are longer than you, like, damn.” Isaac felt less and less complimented by the second. “And the wings are just like skin. That’s so weird. Do you suck blood?”

Isaac narrowed his eyes, folding his arms again. “No.”

He held up his hands defensively. “H-hey, relax, no judgment if you do,” he stuttered. “I mean I heard stories about vampire bat nurses or something. Like hey, free blood I guess?” As the clerk tried to recall the story, Isaac had already turned back to the door and pushed it open. Hearing the ding from opening it, Isaac grimaced. The serval snapped out of thought and called to him, “Have a nice day!”

“Right,” Isaac mumbled.

***

She’d nearly made it to work when Avo heard the screech of tires nearby. Tiny tires. She hazarded a glance over her shoulder and spotted three rodents a couple feet back in a high-end if laughably adorable luxury vehicle.

One slapped the side of the car. “Damn, back that ass up, girl.”

Another whistled, “How’re pred girls so damn fine.”

Finally, the driver asked, “Hey beautiful, give us a smile, huh?”

Sighing with distaste, she turned and gave them a threatening smile, really baring her teeth. She’d hoped they’d get the message.

“Damn, I fuckin’ love a girl with some teeth on her,” the second hollered.

Another yelled to her, “How about I be your chew toy tonight, baby!” They were cackling at themselves. Rolling her eyes, she sneered and turned away.

“Well fuck you, bitch!”

She stopped in place. Her hands balled into fists. “What’d you just call me,” she growled through clenched teeth.

The same one, apparently the driver, called out again, “Just cause you a bitch don’t mean you gotta act like a bitch.” It was embarrassing seeing what he had on. Bandana, gold chains, wife-beater like he was some kind of music video thug.

His friends reacted through stifled laughs, throwing out what they probably thought were gang signs, “Ohhhh shit!”

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “Big mistake.” She walked up to their tiny sports car. Towering above, she put a foot on the hood, shaking the chassis slightly.

The driver glared at her over some shitty shades. “And what are you gonna fuckin’ do about it?”

“I can crush you, little man,” she snarled. “Easy. Now take your little Malibu Bearbie car and get lost.” She took her foot off the hood and went back to the sidewalk. The others in the car were silent.

Just as she started on her path again, the driver yelled at her, “My family fuckin’ owns this place, bitch! We got friends in high places. We got friends in the ZPD.” He said it with such conviction and self-confidence that it was hard to tell if it was a bluff. “We could disappear you overnight if we wanted to. Don’t fuckin’ step to me like you can break me. Cause I’m the one who can fuckin’ break you.” The tiny car engine roared. Subconsciously, she clenched her fists tighter and bit her lip.

One of them added, just loud enough for her to hear, “Fuckin’ preds, man. Know your place,” before they drove off. 

She looked down at her hands. Her palms were bleeding.


	7. Spectacle

There’s always been problems. A lot of it pretty explicit. The stuff they put in the history books later to say how much better we are today. But there are things you start to notice when you’re not considered the norm. Little, more subtle things that won’t make the news. 

For example, why are Gazelle’s backup dancers all tigers? It don’t take much thought to say, “Because it stands out.” Well, more aptly put, it makes Gazelle stand out. The tigers are eye candy, there to make prey girls’ panties wet. Okay, not just the prey girls, though the big dangerous pred wet dream is certainly a thing. But you look at those tigers and what do they feel like? A backdrop. A stylistic choice. They weren’t chosen because they were the best dancers or as some inclusive gesture. They’re just a fucking aesthetic. They’re there because they make Gazelle stand out up on that fucking stage, make her look even more elegant and svelte next to the big powerful preds. Sure she can write it off as bringing them into the limelight, but that doesn’t change the root. It’s still the same song and dance. They’re just a spectacle.

Prey seem to look at us and feel two things: intimidation and fascination. Present day and we’re still a novelty. We still get pointed at like, la de fucking da, kid, I’m buying groceries, don’t drag your mom over to look at me and don’t you touch my damn tail. And it’s not even just the fucking kids that do it. It’s like common sense ceases the second a pred enters the room. 

And despite how fascinating we are, we’re still pushed to the background, to the jobs that fit those of our type, to the slums that no one else wants to visit cause it’s too damn scary. The funny thing is that most of the scary comes from the fact that it’s mostly preds there, and it just keeps feeding into itself until some shrew bigwig decides to buy the block, force the preds out, and market the place as “urban” and “hip.” Prey start to move in and act like they’re living life on the edge. They start to adopt our mannerisms, our style, even things that were thrust on us by them in the first place. Either that or from a heritage they have no business adopting. 

Look at me. You see, I don’t know, a jackal and what do you think. Anubis, right? Egypt? Well no shit. I’ve got ancestors from there, but I was born in Zootopia. Ten miles from you, asshole. Don’t ask me if I’ve been to Egypt like I can afford it. Don’t ask me if I’ve got family “back home.” My uncle works the fucking graveyard shift as security at some apartment complex in Tundra Town. “But Avo,” you say, “What about all the masks and shit in your apartment?” What about it? Yeah, I’m proud of my heritage, and yeah, maybe my family came from Egypt at some point. Just don’t fucking treat me like a foreigner in my hometown. 

But I guess we just take it. Just go along with it. After a point, it’s hard to fight it. Because if you fight it, you’re gonna fight every day. Every time you step outside, put yourself out there. You gotta defy the expectation or else it’ll settle right back in. Like pushing a brick wall in. Can’t do it alone, hard enough as a group. It’s too much pressure to put on yourself. But hey, weirdos on the internet will pay for exotic, so might as well give em what they fucking want.

Might as well be a spectacle.


	8. A Good Impression

“Hey.”

“Sorry for yesterday.”

“It’s cool.”

“Yeah, it’s funny. You’d think there’d be more bats around than preds considering the prey to pred rate is like ten-to-one.”

“We don’t fit too well into the social hierarchy.”

“Old baggage. So a lot of us are still isolated.”

“The more you know.”

“Which is why I wanted to talk. Needed to do something spontaneous, put myself out there.”

“Talking? You madman.”

“If anyone was going to be potentially receptive to a deviant like me, might as well try the attractive cam girl.”

“I’ll pretend that makes sense.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, are you one of the blood drinking ones?”

“No.”

“Okay. Cool. Cool.

Sorry, I think about that stuff and it makes me a little ill.”

“It’s fine.”

“And sorry for pressuring you. I just wanted to be sure I could trust you, y’know?”

“You can tell by looking at me?”

“Shit yeah.”

“You might not know it, but Egyptian wolves are naturally good judges of character. We have a history.”

“Anyway, I’ll keep in touch. Never known a bat. Could be fun.”

“Educational.”

“I appreciate your trying.”

“Gotta try new things.”

”Also you paid good money just to talk and as much as it pains me to say it I don’t wanna feel like I’m dicking you out of it.”

“Yes I believe I am now what the industry calls a ‘sugar daddy.’”

“Nevermind. Forget my number and erase your phone’s memory completely.”

“Comply within 24 hours or I’m sending in the fucking cleaners.”

“( ͡° ͜n ͡°)”

“Yeah real cute. See how that holds up when your bat finger things are broken.”


	9. Tapestry

“Get this, though. Guy drives all the way out here from Rainforest for a locksmith.”

Avo leaned on the counter, absentmindedly fiddling with an egg-shaped device. Betty’d walked over on lunch break, bag of fast food in hand. Twisting the egg device in her hands, she wondered aloud, “He fucking drove out here? Don’t they have, y’know, locksmiths more local?”

“Oh yeah, but he knew that if you want a hardass fuckin’ lock, you go to a hardass fuckin’ neighborhood.” True enough, Avo thought. The more break-ins in an area, the more familiar the professionals should be with the situation. For a replacement, you want to go to a locksmith that knows what people are doing to break the locks in the first place, she figured.

“Fair. But still,” she trailed off, placing the egg on the counter and giving it a spin.

“Oh it gets better. He comes out here looking for top of the line shit for his business. Real paranoid about people breaking in and taking shit. And you know what he is?” She paused for dramatic effect. “He’s a fuckin’ florist.”

Avo’s eyes widened as she suppressed a laugh behind a stifled smirk. She stopped the spinning item abruptly with two fingers. “The fuck?”

Betty leaned on the counter across from her, seeing now that Avo was clearly invested. “I know, right?”

Avo gave her a wry smile. “I get the sense that flowers aren’t the only thing he’s growing.”

“Ha.” Betty firmly tapped the glass with a claw for emphasis. “Deadass, it actually was about the flowers. Apparently there’ve been a string of robberies at florists,” she let slip as if it were hot gossip.

Avo tried and failed to contain her amusement at the entire thing. “I’m still... what do you steal from a damn florist? Desperate piece of shit hoarding roses cause he fucking forgot his anniversary was in two days? Rogue cactus fetishist?”

“Begonia Burglar strikes again.” Betty spread her hands in the air like she was making a headline as Avo snickered. Then, Betty's smirk faded. “Anyway, today this woman comes in. Also an otter, mind you.” She hesitates. “Woman asks if we’ve seen her husband.”

“No fucking way.” Avo blinked twice and kept her jaw from dropping.

“For real. She says he’s gone missing.” Betty stared down at the counter. In the reflection, Avo could see her eyes narrow and her brow furrow. “She’d found a receipt from us.”

The wolf went quiet, lost in thought. Avo shook herself out of her disbelief. “Okay, that guy was definitely doing something shady. There’s no way,” she murmured.

Betty picked her eyes up a bit, sounding tired more than anything. “Maybe, but they were like the most fuckin’ whitebread average Jane and Joe you’d ever meet.”

“Weird... But hey, you see all kinds of joe schmoes in here buying shit you’d never expect from ‘em,” Avo tried to both rationalize things and provide some levity.

Betty stood up straight from the counter. “Scary fuckin’ shit,” she grumbled.

“C’mon, I’m sure you’ve seen it all.”

“I meant the guy going missing.” Though at first agitated, Betty backed down. She muttered under her breath, reaching for a cigarette, “Fuckin’ pred disappearances down to even an otter. And ZNN doesn’t say a damn word. If they do, it’s just a blip on the radar. Like nobody is connecting the dots.”

Avo commented, skeptically, “As much as I hate conspiracy bullshit...”

“I ain’t saying it’s a conspiracy,” Betty growled. She sighed, unlit cigarette clenched in her teeth. “I’m just saying it’s a fucking problem.”

Avo suddenly hopped over the counter. Betty clutched her chest and stumbled a bit in surprise. The slender wolf grabbed her by the shoulder and reeled her into an awkward hug. With two pats on the back, she released her. “Hey.” She whipped a sucker out of seemingly thin air. “We’ve got each other’s back. And Al’s got our backs. Everybody on the block is watching out for everybody else. We’re a pack. Ain’t nothing going to happen to one of our own.”

Betty gave Avo a playful punch. With a sly smile, she quipped, “Watch it, you’re gettin’ dangerously close to plagiarizing my own pep talks.”

Avo flashed a toothy grin and popped the sucker into her mouth. “Too late, trademark Avo, patent’s pending.”

The wolf waved her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m heading back over.” She fumbled for her lighter as she reached the door.

“Hey,” Avo called, swinging back behind the counter.

Barely turning, Betty called back, “Yeah?”

With a shit-eating grin, Avo sat her head on her hands, balanced by her elbows on the glass. “Watch out for that Begonia Burglar.”


	10. A Simple Question

”Hey. Chump. Where’ve been?”

“My little program not doin’ it for ya anymore?”

“Yeah, you’ve really lost your touch.”

“If you came by here I could give you more than a touch.”

“Bad touch. Stranger danger.”

“True, it would likely be both strange and dangerous.”

“I’ve seen it.”

“Well not recently it would seem.”

“I don’t know, I feel guilty."

"I think of you more as a friend than that one pred girl on the computer I’d ogle, you know?”

“A thing called friends with benefits exists.”

“Where do you ‘benefits?’”

“Beyond your patronage? Another someone to mess with.”

“I take it you have many people like that already.”

“Yeah, well sometimes you gotta diversify.”

“Mess with the same people the same way all the time and it gets boring. I like to stay on my toes. Everyone’s got their own subtle and not so subtle buttons that’ll make ‘em squirm.”

“You, for instance.”

“I’m listening.”

“You seem like the kind of person most things just slide off of. Like an oiled up punching bag.”

“Yes, of course.”

“No wonder I’ve had MMA fighters stalking me.”

“But, any sort of, let’s say, advance or appreciation and you’re off the rails.” 

“Also you do dumb shit when you’re nervous, so that’s fun.”

“Okay.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fuck you?”

“An excellent point. You also gotta watch out for the buttons that set people off.”

“I’m learning so much today.”

“See, sometimes there’s a fine line between messing with someone and provoking them. Takes some trial and error to feel out a particular person’s line.”

“And how might someone cross your line?”

“For example. Purely hypothetical.”

“As if I’d willingly give someone ammunition. Don’t worry about it.”

“If I got issues, I’ll deal with them.”

”Hm.”

“I mean, I guess I would rather take care of my friends’ shit than have them deal with mine in most cases, you know? They got enough to worry about.” 

“Especially when the sky’s falling or something, then we’re already up shit-creek.” 

“Might as well try not to dump some more on the pile.”

“Long as you don’t forget yourself, I suppose.”

“Well, yeah.” 

“But sometimes you gotta make sacrifices.”

“Ever sacrifice yourself and find out later that it wasn’t necessary?”

“No, but if I did, I’m sure it’d fucking end with a slap to the back of the head from someone.”

“If that’s all it takes, I wish I’d had someone to slap the shit out of me.”

“I’d be more than happy too. But after a certain point it’s going to cost extra.”

“Noted.”


	11. Cortisol

“I’m telling you, they’re like a whole new band.”

The odd pair, a bat and a buzz-cut, stocky booted goat, walked out of a concrete parking garage. Palm trees, both real and fake, lined the street. At night, the fake trees light up, but in the early morning sun they blended together with their organic counterparts. Few cars passed by, and barely anyone walked along the street. Sahara Square was always quietest in the morning, after all the casinos and concert halls shut down for the night. The two reached a street corner and stopped, finding just enough vehicles going back and forth that jaywalking felt risky. The bat, Isaac, replied to his cohort’s earlier comment, neurotically pressing the crosswalk button, “Lyle, I grew up around a lot of purists, you know? I got indoctrinated into their holy book of disapproved bands at a young age.” Eventually, the signal switched, allowing them to cross. “Gonna take a lot for me to not associate them with that anymore.”

“Oh, are you demanding proof,” the goat scoffed.

“Yes.”

“Cause I can give you proof,” he claimed, whipping out his phone.

“Cool.”

As they reached the other side of the road, Lyle unlocked his phone and pulled up an internet browser. He began to type something, but stopped. “Just let me... holy shit.”

Isaac glanced up at him. “What?”

The goat blinked a few times in disbelief, then turned the phone to him. “I- look at this.”

The headline was large on the front page of his home site:

MAYOR ARRESTED, CHARGED WITH MULTIPLE COUNTS OF ABDUCTION

Isaac nearly did a double take, bewildered. “What is-“

Talking over him, the goat rationalized more to himself than anyone else, “I mean I knew he was kinda shady already, but not more than like standard politician shady.”

Still processing the information, Isaac drew his own device from his pocket by a small metal ring. Lyle was scrolling fervently. Isaac asked him, “Did someone just dig this up from his past or?”

“Nope, it’s all been during his tenure based on this. Holy shit,” Lyle continued with an incredulous laugh, “14 mammals unlawfully held prisoner.” 

“Did you guys see?” Both turned to see a young female antelope steadily approach, sable fur gleaming in the sun.

Lyle waved his phone emphatically as Isaac looked back to his phone, swiping through what info he could find. “Yeah. I just... how does this go unnoticed?”

The antelope, Julia, stopped just shy of them, casting a shadow over them from the morning sun behind her. “Apparently he used a private security group and holed them up in an old asylum.”

Lyle stowed his phone. “It’s like straight out of a fucking movie or something.”

“Something’s going on here,” Isaac muttered, still fixated on the articles he could find.

The goat gave a gruff, dismissive laugh. “No shit. You just wake up or-“

With a stare to shut him down, Isaac elaborated, “They released pictures and names.“

“No way. Lemme see.” Lyle swung around behind the bat, easily peering over him at the screen. “Oh shit. They’re all preds, aren’t they.”

“Last I checked, Lionheart was a pred,” Julia commented, crossing her hooves. “Why would he lock up his own people?”

“They really aren’t ‘his people,’” Isaac corrected.

“Sorry, word police,” she half-apologized, giving him somewhat of a condescending smile. “But you know what I mean, the point stands.”

Lyle nodded, deep in contemplation. “It’s definitely fishy. Like, preds are already in the minority. If college statistics taught me anything, for one-hundred percent of the victims to be preds they’d have to have been targeted.”

“Real great deduction, Sherlock,” the antelope quipped as she passed them toward a nearby building entrance.

“What, it’s a joke,” the goat admitted with a smarmy grin.

Absentmindedly, Isaac simply repeated to himself under his breath, “This is not good. This is really not good.”

“I feel like Albert Swinestein if it’s taking this long for this stuff to sink in for you guys,” she called back over her shoulder, producing a ring of keys from her purse.

“Dude, relax.” The goat clapped a hoof on Isaac’s shoulder before moving to join Julia at the door. “It’ll blow over like any other political scandal.”

Julia flipped through her keys. “I mean, they did find all the victims alive it looks like.”

Isaac shook himself out of his stupor. “No, I mean... “ He put his phone in his pocket and chewed his tongue in thought. “Look, preds are in the minority, right? They just lost their first mayor.”

Julia offhandedly replied, “Well that sheep will step up for now, forget her name.”

“Wellfeather or something,” Lyle piped in.

“Sounds about right.” The lock clicked and Julia opened the door. Cool air escaped and nearly made them shiver. “Anyway, feels like there won’t be any big shakeups with her in charge considering her track record.”

Lyle raised an eyebrow to her. “Which is?”

“Exactly,” she pointed at him, affirmatively.

Isaac caught up to them. “But how long is it going to be before people will give another pred mayor a chance?”

Julia stepped back out and shrugged at him, “As soon as the next pred that’s as qualified as the other candidates steps up. Doesn’t matter if they’re pred or prey, it’s their platform that matters, right?” 

“Isaac, it really isn’t that big of a deal. Besides, not like you’re a pred, unless you’ve been hiding something,” Lyle added with a wink.

“I guess. I just.” The bat took a deep breath. “I feel for them? Bats are pretty underrepresented too.”

Lyle replied with a sarcastic smirk. “I’m sure they’d love to hear your solidarity.”

Julia rolled her eyes at the goat and clapped a hoof on Isaac’s shoulder. He was starting to get tired of people touching him, but he said nothing. She tried to reassure him, “Isaac, relax. You’re overthinking it. You’ll just stress yourself out.” With a firm shake as if to show understanding, she let go and opened the door again. Another gust of cold air. “I gotta get everything set up.”

“Shit, it’s nine already,” Lyle wheezed after fishing out his phone again.

Isaac lingered at the door in the heat of the Saharan air. “I’ll be inside in a minute.”

Julia disappeared inside. Lyle gave him a light punch on the arm before following her in. “Don’t sprain something, batbrain.”

And they were gone. Isaac basked in the sun for a moment. He tried to take deep breaths, but his heart was beating faster than it should. He was unsurprised, though. His thoughts were racing. He’d barely been able to speak a few moments ago, tripping himself up. He shouldn’t have aired his thoughts to them. They just fell out of his mouth absentmindedly. Guilty for his comparison, shamed for his worrying, frustrated with his explanations. He’d been taught not to draw attention, that drawing attention welcomed negative judgment. The last thing he wanted was to be misjudged from muddled thoughts.

Where does he get off talking about these things, anyway? He has no business talking about how preds might feel. He’s a flying fox, a fruit bat with a regular, acceptable mammalian face. He’s not even like one of his cousins who regularly are shamed for their traditional bat-like appearances, let alone the ostracized vampire bats. He can pass for normal.

He thought he understood. 

That was his mistake. He couldn’t understand, and he was tearing into himself over it. 

A sudden cool breeze brought him back to reality, a reality where he was standing on an empty sidewalk outside work berating himself for perceived but unknown crimes. He sighed, his heart starting to slow. 

Somehow he found peace again, but it lingered in the back of his mind, like the copper taste of a bloody mouth. Things were going to get worse before they got better. He could feel it.


	12. Big Ripples in a Small Pond

Avo packed her gym bag and slung it over her shoulder. Walking toward the entrance to the gymnasium, she gave the old punching bag a goodbye punch. When she looked back at the entrance, however, she noticed something odd. 

Two big guys in ZPD uniforms, a buffalo and a rhino, were talking with someone small. Taking a closer look, she recognized Martina wringing her hands. Avo hung back for a bit, not wanting to distract, and admittedly curious about what the deal was. The female stoat nodded meekly to something they said. They handed her a card and left out the door. Avo decided she’d ask.

The stoat stared down at the card the cops handed her. She slowly turned and squeaked, seeing the wolf standing behind her. “Oh, Avo!”

Avo gave an ideally reassuring smile and walked up. She casually asked, “What’d they want? Marty finally get in a nerd fight the cops had to break up?”

She stuttered, somewhat incredulous, “No, n-nothing like that!”

“Was a joke, Martina.” Avo couldn’t help but smirk at her overreaction. 

“Right,” the stoat exhaled. She looked back to the card. “No, they were just checking in.”

Avo narrowed her eyes. “On what exactly.”

“They’re looking into potential causes for savage behavior,” Martina sighed.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Avo muttered. She fished a sucker out of her bag and offered it to her. Martina politely declined. “So they come to a random ass gymnasium,” the wolf asked, popping the candy in her mouth.

“Apparently they say there’s a chance the condition could be linked to being under intense stress or perceived duress.” She was wringing her hands again.

Avo pulled the sucker out and twiddled it. “Uh-huh.”

Martina held out the card for Avo to see, arms slightly shaking. Sure enough, it was the number of some ZPD detective. “They gave me their card... just in case...” She seemed like she was on the verge of tears.

Avo’s eyes widened, and she knelt alongside her, “Hey, whoa, easy. It’s okay.”

“I know they’re just being cautious but,” she sniffled, rubbing her eye, “this whole thing is like a nightmare.”

Avo put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” She sighed, letting Martina pull herself together. “It’ll be okay. They’re gonna wake up from this shit some day.”

Martina took a deep breath. “I guess.”

With a warm smile, Avo stood up again. “For now, how’s about a sport drink?”

The stoat couldn’t help but try returning the smile, though still somewhat weakly. “Sure, I’ll grab you one.”

As she trotted off to a nearby cooler, Avo called out, “Long as it’s not grape.”

About to open the cooler, Martina swerved in place. “What’s wrong with grape?”


	13. Outside

“You sure you’re good?”

Avo stood in her apartment’s doorway, arms crossed, as Betty interrogated her. “Yeah, I’m good.” Not entirely convinced, Betty raised an eyebrow and looked her over. Scrunching her muzzle at the perceived scrutiny, the slender wolf added, “I mean, I’m as shocked as everyone else is, but I’ll be good.”

With a reprimanding scowl, Betty pointedly jabbed her with a finger. “Cause if you aren’t, I’m gonna be fuckin’ pissed you’re hiding it.”

“Promise I’m good,” Avo held up her hands defensively. “You know me, B.” 

“Yeah. I do.” The black wolf sniffed and looked down the hall. She grumbled, “Shit’s fucking insane. I’m gonna check in with Charlie real quick. Plus Annie’s had me pretty concerned the last couple days. Might see how Ozzy is too.” She rubbed her temples with two claws. “What a fucking shitshow.”

“You doing alright yourself,” Avo asked with legitimate concern.

“No,” she snorted half-dismissively, “but we’ll have time to deal with that later. Last chance to fess up.”

Avo tried to give her a reassuring smile as she made a shooing motion with one hand. “Go. Do your beta thing.”

“Alright.” Betty started off down the hall, grumbling all the way. “This conspiracy shit is gonna kill me. Mayor’s fuckin’ arrested for kidnapping people, people are allegedly going savage, now there’s some bullshit about pred biology...”

Avo called to her before she reached the stairs, “Lemme know if you need some backup. I’ll be here.” With Betty out of sight, she rubbed her jaw, hoping to relieve the tension of a forced expression. With a deep breath, she went back inside and softly shut the door.

***

“Hey.”

“Isaac, right.”

”Yeah. Who’s this?”

“Betty.”

“Avo’s friend Betty?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you do me a favor?”

”Are you guys alright?”

“No, but that’s beside the point.”

“Okay.”

“I need you to talk to Avo.”

“Shoot the shit, fuckin’ push her buttons, anything.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll do that for me?”

“Yeah. What’s going on?”

“You’ve been watching the news, right?”

”Yeah.”

“There ya go.”

“Where am I going.”

“Listen.”

“Everyone around here is taking this shitstorm pretty hard. Avo’s no exception.”

“My job right now’s to find out how bad they’re dealing with it.”

“Avo thinks she can just hold it, keep me from worryin’ and let me tend to the others.”

“It’s fuckin’ stupid, but I get it. She's got too much pride. She’s puttin’ on a brave face.”

”You want me to keep her distracted from ruminating or something?”

“Bingo.” 

“Keep her from thinkin’ too much.”

“Something’s up, but she thinks she can hold out on adding it to the huge pile of bullshit we’re already dealing with.”

“Since you’re outside the pack, hell, outside her usual circle, she may even feel less pressure to hold it in like she’s doin’ for our sakes.”

“I don’t fuckin' know.”

“Just make sure she isn’t being fuckin’ stupid.”

”I can do that.”

“Good.”

“Did Avo give you my number?”

“No.”

”How’d you find it?”

“I know someone.”

”I have some concerns.”

“Save it. I got shit to do. Good luck.”

”You... too?”


	14. Ether

“They’re a bunch of fucking inbred flying leeches that finally decided join the rest of us in modern society,” the desert hare sneered. Isaac wasn’t exactly sure what his deal was. Maybe they seemed like easy targets? Kinda close in size? Plain old xenophobia?

“That’s rich coming from a rabbit,” Isaac muttered. The hare had accosted them from nearby as they tried to cross the cafeteria. Though he attempted to stand in their way, the two bats circumvented him. He didn’t stop there, however. In fact, he became even more indignant.

He appealed to peers at the next table over, “You know why they stayed away so long? Because they thought they were too good for us. Too good to give up their fucking blood drinking pastime. Preds stopped hunting prey centuries ago. What the fuck is your excuse?” Surprisingly, some heeded it. Something about him got them fired up. He paced up to Isaac and jabbed a finger at him. “You really think you’re hot shit, don’t you.”

“I get the sense you could say the same about yourself,” the female bat replied, peeking around Isaac as she smiled smugly and squinted condescendingly.

Pushing past Isaac, the hare got up in the female bat’s face, grabbing her wrist. “Listen here you parasitic pieces of shit, you decide to enter mammal society, you play by our rules.” She brushed his hand off and began to walk away. The hare clenched his fists. “Hey, I’m not done with you!”

As the female bat kept moving, Isaac could see the hare start to raise a leg. On impulse, and still close by, he slid in front of the foot before the kick could connect with his sister’s back. It hit him square in the chest instead. The force would’ve sent his light body flying, but he’d grabbed the hare’s ankle as the kick resolved. It kept him from being tossed, but he staggered heavily as he let go, wind knocked out of him and his eyes wide.

An authoritative voice bellowed across the cafeteria, “Herod! My office, now!” The hare relented and made his way toward it. Seemed to be one of the coaches, a lion with a whistle dangling from his neck. A zebra was panting next to him, clearly having been in a rush moments ago. The cafeteria hushed, then gradually returned to a din of multiple conversations. Some passed by offering to help Isaac up, see if he needed to go to the nurse. Though breathing heavily, he awkwardly told them he’d be fine.

His sister led him to a nearby empty table. Rather than seat him, however, she pushed him back onto the bench. She was scowling at him. “You didn’t have to take the fucking hit for me.”

“It was a hit meant for both of us,” he lied. “Besides, I wanted to.”

“Why?”

“Cause I deserved it,” he coughed. “But also, if they saw you get hit, they’d see you’re vulnerable.”

“Bullshit, and I can take it,” she scolded.

“This isn’t about you taking it. This is about image. People see this happen and it has an impact on their perception of you, whether they realize it or not,” he tried to explain, struggling to find the right way. “I’m not gonna let them drag you down before you can do anything. “

She crossed her arms and exhaled deeply. “And what about you?”

“I’ll just have to get by on my charm and good looks,” he joked half-heartedly, clutching his chest.

With a soft punch to his upper arm, she seemed moderately placated. She wouldn’t smile, though. “Keep getting hit and we’ll see how long that lasts.”


	15. Instinct

“Hey.”

Her phone buzzed, its light choked, screen face down. Avo had flipped it over, saw a single word, and sighed. The artificial light was painful, as if she'd been nursing a migraine. She’d just been sitting in her apartment in the dark, no music or sound. Somewhat reluctantly, she picked the phone up and stared at it. Eventually, she typed a simple “hey” in response.

It buzzed again.

“Are you free?”

“...yes.” She deliberately added a pause, hoping it might dissuade conversation on some level. She couldn’t bring herself to straight up lie, though.

Another buzz. A longer message this time.

“I just wanted to check in on you. I hadn’t heard anything for a while and I checked your page but you hadn’t streamed recently.”

She rubbed her right eye wearily. Isaac and her’d been talking on and off ever since their last face to face chat "experience" weeks ago. The awkward had mostly subsided, but the past few days she’d hoped to just quietly deal with... everything. “Yeah, no, it’s just been busy.”

“How is everyone.”

Her grip on her phone tightened. “It’s been rough.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for shit you aren't involved in.” The words spilled out automatically. “I hate when people do that.”

“My instinct is to just say sorry again.”

“Well we can’t help our fucking instincts can we.” She paused, looked at what she had wrote, and in frustration tossed the phone to the other side of the couch. This wasn’t her. She’d shit talk to peoples’ faces, but she wouldn’t go all passive-aggressive on them. He didn’t even mention what’s happening. Why was she lashing out at him? She crossed her arms as if to simultaneously pull herself together and shove the negative thoughts back down.

Her phone buzzed again. Only this time, it kept buzzing. She hesitated to pick it up again, but, after a deep breath, she answered. Holding it against her ear and waiting to hear a voice, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Surprisingly, the microphone icon swirled as if loading video. She thought she was seeing things at first, but sure enough, there he was. Of course he decides to show his face again when she wasn't in the mood for this shit. “You’ve got your camera on,” she dryly stated.

Isaac softly replied, “I know.” He seemed distracted.

They sat for a moment in silence. Unbearable silence. With a heavy sigh, she resigned to ask, “What’re you doing, why the call?” He didn’t answer her immediately. Instead she watched his eyes make subtle little motions, as if quietly evaluating her. It made her nervous on some level. “What do you want from me?”

Finally, he plainly replied as if to brush it off, “Nothing. I just wanted to see you were okay.”

Frowning, she tried to hold her general irritation in check. “Yeah, I’m fine. Anything else?” Her words still came out pointed.

With some hesitation, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Yeah. Don’t do this.” When he reopened them, they were darker somehow, like his irises had been saturated with ink. It was striking, to the point that she nearly had to convince herself nothing had actually changed.

“Do fucking what,” she answered tersely, eyebrow raised.

“Lock up.”

Her eyes narrowed, but her voice remained steady. She had to be stable. “The fuck are you trying to say? Listen, I’m-“

He cut through her deflection before she could finish. “I know that fucking look.” He wasn’t looking her in the eye anymore. He sounded tired, almost bitter. “It doesn’t work.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she fired back. Her jaw started to visibly tense, as if it could barely hold a neutral expression. She wouldn’t let it get to her.

“Cut the shit. You’re stuck, aren't you. It’s all over your face.”

She scoffed at the accusation and played aloof. “Don’t psychoanalyze me like you’re a fucking therapist. You know me oh so well after, I'm sorry, how long? Well bravo for-”

“I know what it looks like,” he nearly shouted. Reflexively, she wanted to push back, but she went silent. It was the first time she’d ever heard him speak up. In all honesty, she didn’t think he was capable of it. While part of her just wanted to be done with it, to hang up, there was also an urge to stand her ground and fight. However, he kept pressing her with conviction, “It’s gonna kill you from the inside out. You think that it protects you, but it’s just a fucking cave. The deeper you go, the more your own voice just echoes and the more likely you’ll get lost. You can't detach here.”

“Shut it!” Her jaw was fully clenched now, hold back everything. “I know myself. Don’t lecture me like I’m just some dumb pred,” she growled.

He pounded his desk with a surprising clang. “Then fight it! Actually talk to me. And don’t act like it’s hidden when it’s all over your damn face.”

She snapped, “Don’t act like you understand me-“

“You’re fucking right I don’t understand.” Surprisingly, she flinched. She could feel her eyes start to water and cursed it under her breath. Too much was happening. He continued, “I’ll never understand what you’re going through. But I do understand that this shit you’re doing will bring nothing but more pain. When you cut your hand on glass, you don’t double down and tighten your grip. You fucking toss it and get help.”

Angry with both him and her own body, she lashed out, “Do you even hear yourself? Who the fuck are you to say this shit? Until recently, you were fucking nobody. You have nothing to do with me. I'm a predator, you're prey. Why do you fucking give a shit!”

“Because you fucking deserve it!” he yelled back. “Because you pulled me out of this same shit. I was garbage. I felt like society’s refuse. It got drilled into my head since I was little that bats don’t have a place in society. I internalized that. But I reached out to you because I was tired of taking that shit from myself. And you actually responded.”

"I've had to deal with this shit since I was born!" They sat in silence. She tried to maintain eye contact with him, stay in control, but it only got harder until she had to look away and wipe her eyes. Grabbing a pillow, she screamed into it before lowering it onto her lap. “Fucking hell. Well. You got me. Good job.” Isaac said nothing. She sighed, but the frustration seemed to well right back up with every word. “It’s just so stupid. Everything is. Everybody is. Predisposed to savage behavior? It’s in our genes?” She wiped her eyes again, gritting her teeth. “It's been three days, and I can’t even stream. It’s actually getting to me. Predophiles? I don’t like 'em but I can deal with them.” She shook visibly. “But there are fucking people out there telling me to act savage. Rip shit up. Pretend like I’ve given in to my 'true nature.' Every time I've gone on. Like it’s just a thing now, not a real problem.” In irritation, she buried her face in her hands, claws digging into her scalp. “They fucking fetishize it. I should be able to take it but it's relentless. And now there are fucking people that just come in to anonymously shit on me like-“

“I'll moderate.”

“What?” She blinked twice, not completely sure what he’d said.

“Let me screen the comments somehow. You won’t even have to see that shit.”

She took a deep breath, regaining her composure. “I don’t even know how that’d work.”

“We’ll figure it out." He paused to give her a forced but appreciated smile. "I’m serious. I’ve got your back.”

“Alright. We'll try it.” Wiping away what she hoped were the last of the tears, she looked at Isaac. She hadn’t noticed it before. His face was wet too.


	16. Emotionally Compromised

“What the fuck just happened.”

Avo took a deep breath.

“Alright, pull yourself together. Things just got a little heated.” She paused. “More than a little.” 

She sat silently for a moment, then screamed into the pillow still on her lap. “Fucking fuck! I can’t believe he actually got me to cry, in front of him no less. What’s wrong with me?” Falling sideways onto the couch, she clutched the pillow close to her chest. “Shit sucked,” she mumbled into it.

She tried to recall everything that’d just happened in an attempt to make sense of it. Most of it felt like a blur at this point. “What was his intent even? Did I just give him some leverage over me? He’s got the high ground now that I showed vulnerability, and he knows I’m in a position that can be taken advantage of.” She bit the tip of her thumbnail, pondering. “Fucking power dynamics. I can’t let this sit. I’m not getting into one of those fucking emotionally manipulative, abusive relationships. Friendships? Whatever.”

She remembered the way he looked toward the end of the call, though. He’d been crying too. “Well then he should’ve minded his own damn business,” she writhed with frustration. “I mean, he can’t be that tone deaf, can he? Read the fucking room. When you back a wolf into a corner, you should expect the wolf to bite.” He was purposefully provoking her. He wanted her to snap at him, let out the pent up shit on him like he was an emotional dumpster. She murmured the thought to herself, “Either he was dumb enough to do it anyway or confident enough that he could make me submit.” Was it just a way to make her feel guilty? Then he could use that guilt to manipulate her. And he covered it all up with a helpful resolution to avoid suspicion. Or he actually thought that was constructive and he genuinely wanted to help.

“Ugh!” The pillow flew up out of her hands. She bolted upright. “You know what? What’s done is done. If I’m screwed, I’m screwed.” She sighed, waiting for some kind of relief in fatalistic acceptance. “But now what. We can’t just move along like nothing happened.” She groaned. So much for fatalistic acceptance. “Fuck, this is going to nag at me.” She crossed her arms and looked down at the phone on the table.

“Hey. Are you free tomorrow by any chance?”


	17. Vertigo

“Weird how long days used to feel, like, in high school,” Isaac mused. They peered out at the horizon as the sunset cast an orange glow on the city. Isaac sat on the ledge of the roof. Avo leaned on it with her elbows, a familiar white stick protruding from her mouth. 

“Think that’s mostly just getting older,” she added.

“When you stop feeling paranoia-induced bullshit every waking hour, your day also goes a lot quicker.”

She hissed sarcastically, “Careful, you’re gonna cut yourself with that edge.”

“I am a master of running with scissors,” he deadpanned, seemingly completely serious. “Honed to a fine edge over years of teenage angst.”

“Yeah, ‘teenage’.” Her sucker clacked from one side of her mouth to the other. “You know that just cause bats are stereotypically depressing goths you don’t have to be, right? Cause you aren’t exactly doing that image any favors.”

“That hurts,” he yawned, “but then I imagine things like the copious amount of eyeliner you must’ve worn in high school if this is what you wear now.”

Straightening up, she scoffed, “Hey, I was punk rock as fuck in high school. Kicked people’s asses.”

“Fun. I was anxious as fuck in high school. Took me until I graduated to realize that it wasn’t normal.”

She removed the sucker, twirling the stick in her fingers. “See, you’re denying this whole depressing goth thing, but I coulda swore I heard some My Caracal Romance in the background a second ago.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” They fell silent watching the sun set before Isaac added, “We came up here for a reason other than to shame our teenage selves, right? First thing in your morning, my evening.”

Popping the sucker back in her mouth, she clapped her hands once. “Yes, yes we did, my dear dingbat. You were gonna prove those wings to me.”

Isaac stood up. She’d noticed some odd things with his outfit. Clasps down the sides of his pants. Sleeveless, sideless shirt. Some sort of barely visible singlet thing underneath holding it all together. He undid the clasps. As he did so, it seemed more of his wings was revealed, leading all the way to his ankles. Surprisingly, the pants didn’t fall apart, secured to the undergarment somehow. He was still fully clothed, but now the full extent of his wings were released. Without a word, he jumped.

Gliding down over the empty street, he looped around a lamp post. With a few wing beats, he regained some height while retaining his speed. He did a few twists in the air before opening the wings wide in such a way that the airflow gave him a huge boost in height, though a decrease in speed. He reached the roof again and landed safely.

Avo gave him some brief applause. “Alright, that was fuckin’ sick. How do you move like that in the air?”

He breathed as if he’d just been running a marathon. “I just wing it.”

She scrunched her face in a jokingly pained expression from his pun. “I’m gonna push you off this building again. But actually, how do you even fly back up or move that fast?”

With a calming breath, he hopped back onto the ledge near her. “Big wingspan, light body.”

She raised an eyebrow, “How light are we talking?”

“I weigh about two pounds.”

“Holy shit,” she murmured, eyeing him up and down.

He spread his arms like a child wanting to be carried. “Pick me up.”

Shrugging, she grabbed him by his sides and lifted him. Sure enough, he was surprisingly light. “I feel like I could just toss you like a paper plane.”

“Please don’t.”

“I’m resisting, for now,” she quipped, carefully placing him back on the ledge as if he’d just blow away in a stiff breeze. “Makes me wonder, though. Why don’t I see more of you flying around?”

“City planning isn’t really ideal for it in most places.” He sat. “Also, clothes. Bat population is relatively low in the city due to some leftover isolationist shit, and flight clothes are expensive.”

She looked at him, eyes narrowed contemplatively. “I gotta say for someone who is constantly on edge, you take a lot of weird risks.”

“Jumping from buildings?”

“Coming out here with all this ‘savage’ shit fresh in the news,” she replied.

He sighed, “Funny thing about when your body is constantly worrying about everything is it gets hard to tell what you should actually worry about.”

“Hm.”

“Things that are supposed to scare me don’t.”

Avo sat on the ledge, facing inward toward the roof entrance. She crossed her arms. “Yet you still smell like you’re scared of something.”

“I-it could just be adrenaline from jumping off a building,” he stammered suddenly, either self-conscious or surprised.

“Nope. I can tell.”

He stood. “Excuse me, I’ll just jump off this roof again.” She grabbed him by a shoulder, causing a shiver to run through his body.

“Before you do that, I got a question.” Her tone was serious and analytical, a little scary. “For such an anxious guy, you sure didn’t back down from a cornered, angry wolf. Hell, you fuckin’ egged me on. So, what’s the deal with that?”

Still tensed, he mumbled, “Sometimes it’s better to vomit than hold bad stuff in?”

“Beautiful metaphor,” she admitted with a wry smile before sighing. “But not quite what I’m looking for. What gave you the idea that you had a fuckin’ responsibility to help me.” Her voice was stern, no humor left.

“I,” he started, only to pause in thought, as if finally realizing what he’d done. “Honestly, I had no right to push you like that.”

“You’re fucking right you didn’t. You overstepped your bounds. It’s a damn miracle I stayed on that call in the first place. You’re lucky I was bored...” He could feel some anger in her grip. He tried not to shake. “But this don’t seem like you. Walking into other people’s business, acting like you have the knowledge to talk to me on a level that personal.”

He leaned his head back, eyes closed. “It was rude of me.”

“Mm. Rude’s not holding the door for someone. What you did was presumptuous and disrespectful.” She exhaled sharply. “But it wasn’t spiteful or manipulative. It was ignorant, but you were coming from a good place. I just.” Chewing on the words, she seemed conflicted. “It’s put me in an uncomfortable position. I gave you my number because I thought that I could trust you. That you weren’t the type to lie or abuse their position. I still think that’s true, and you haven’t lied to me yet as far as I’m aware. So talk.” She finally released his shoulder and took a step back. “What’s the deal.”

“Alright.” He took a deep breath, but didn’t turn, struggling to find what to say. Exhaling until she was pretty sure he had nothing left in his chest, he began. “I’m bad at reading people. I have trouble talking. My senses are cranked up to eleven, and it makes me shutdown or act impulsively. So I get fixated on things, problems, puzzles. I try to fix things or pick them apart.” He paused from his laundry list of self-perceptions, as if hoping the parts would add up to something greater than the sum. But, he swallowed and continued. “I saw something was wrong, something I thought I recognized in someone I... and I didn’t want to, but I thought I could solve it or something.” He stuttered, “I-I’m sorry. I just. I saw pain and all I could think was, ‘she shouldn’t have to deal with this.’ I overstepped myself. I’m so sorry.” His words had become increasingly shaky, clearly struggling to be able to say anything in the first place.

She sighed but tersely responded, “It’s fine. Thank you for opening up and for owning up to it.” Just as he was going to turn to her, he found himself in a sudden embrace from behind. His whole body froze up. On her arms, she could feel specks of wetness fall. “Honestly, you’re a good guy. Caring. Maybe a dipshit, but it doesn’t seem like that’s entirely your fault. I know you got good intentions. So thanks for caring.” She released him. He shook slightly. “You still gonna jump?”

“No. I think I’m just. I gotta sit down,” he replied, exasperated. Hopping down from the ledge, he unsteadily fell back against it and slid to the ground.

She smirked and took out the stick of the sucker, candy nearly depleted. “You know, it’s still pretty weird you reached out to me when you did that day.”

“I... was actually asked to just check in on you,” he meekly admitted.

“What.” Her ears perked up, eyes widened. “By who, exactly?” After perhaps a second of consideration, if even, she knew. Her eyes narrowed and she gazed out over the road. “Fuck, don’t answer that, I already know who it was. Oh ho ho, next time I see her... wait, she’s sitting on her fucking stoop.” With a sinister excitement, Avo waved at the black timberwolf smoking below. “Hey! Betty!” 

Eventually she looked up, only to see Avo fervently waving her arms around giving her what she presumed was the finger. Smiling to herself, she gave her a cutesy little wave of acknowledgement before blowing out a cloud of smoke.


	18. Shield

In the past, when the other species came together and began to set aside old issues, the bats struggled. While the others could, through great hardship, work around their nature, the vampires could not. They needed blood to survive. As a result, there were vampire hunts. A few found methods to ensure the vampire bats’ survival without violent bloodshed. Most would not. 

At least, not for a long while. 

Many tribes of bats harbored the vampires, driven from their homes. They offered their own blood to them instead of forcing them to steal it. Everyone could pitch in, and no one had to pay with their life. It provided peace for a time. 

Over centuries, bats looked out for each other. They intermixed. When the time came to join the other species in one unified society, they hesitated. We had isolated ourselves, hoping the others would forget. But there were groups of bats who already had coexisted with the others over that same amount of time. Gradually, more of us came out of the shadows. They accepted us on some level, though some more than others. 

That is what I was taught in our schools. But as I continued my schooling, my family moved to Zootopia.

I am a fruit bat. A megabat. My parents are as well. My sister Diana, however, was born with vampirism. 

In our previous home, we did not face much of the old conflicts. The vampire bats had integrated into our society. We understood them. There were actually more bats that held contempt towards the megabats for how well we could pass within mammalian society than those with contempt for the vampires. 

In the city, however, it was clear that the old conflicts lingered. Skepticism, fascination, disgust all followed us here, but particularly my sister. It was a rocky start. I did my best to protect her. I shielded her, made sure that she could accomplish what she wanted, unhindered by lingering misperceptions and hate. In doing so, I’m afraid I neglected myself. She came to flourish behind a barrier I sustained. In some ways, sacrifice was just a part of our culture. But in many ways I came to live solely for her, brushing my own shame, self-loathing, and anxiety aside.

Her life was taken by a reckless driver toward the end of high school. I could no longer live for her. I had not even lived for myself. Then all my parents’ expectations fell solely onto me. And all I could do was try to keep myself going, finish the path laid out for me, but I never really thought of myself. Everything at that point was in service to others. 

A selfless existence is only good so long as you don’t lose sight of yourself. I ignored myself for so long that when I entered into the world, there was nothing left. Just a pile of poorly addressed insecurities and guilt coming to terms with the many things I’d hoped to forget.


	19. The Stray

“We’ve got a stray,” the hulking wolf told her after the usual pleasantries. 

“Que?”

“The sheep. Walked in earlier with a burga of all things,” he rumbled.

Avo raised an eyebrow as she leaned her back on the doorframe. The two stood at the door to her apartment, Al just having made a round to all the others in the building. “As a tribute or something?”

He narrowed his eyes. “For himself. Went into a Bug Burga and got it for himself.”

A crooked grin began to form on Avo’s face as she suppressed a laugh. “Seriously.” The white wolf silently nodded in affirmation. She reeled herself in again and asked, “Is he a fuckin’ wannabite?”

Al scratched his chin. “I don’t fucking know, but I’d cool it on that for now. Guy’s still new here, we don’t know all of his little quirks.”

“You know enough to tell he’s a stray though?”

“Oh, I can tell,” he snorted with confidence. “Ever since I met him, guy had a vibe. This was like the last fuckin’ piece of that puzzle.”

Avo pursed her lips in thought. “Are you thinking that’s why he’s hiding away like a shut-in?”

“Maybe. Coulda just come from something ugly.”

“Or he could just be a speciesist asshole.” She held out a hand as if to serve her opinion up on a silver platter.

Al waved it away dismissively. “Who knows. Point is, it don’t do none of us any good to have him hiding under his bed 24/7.” He paused as if to find the right words. “Try to keep things cordial.”

Avo smirked, turning as if to go back inside with an elegant swish of her tail. “Alright, lemme go grab my apron and oven mitts and start bakin’ him a pie.”

He put a hand on her shoulder before she could take another step. “Seriously, Avo. Don’t start shit and try not to talk shit.” He let go, and she turned back to him. “Hold your mouth fuckin’ shut if you have to.”

With a mouth-zipping motion transitioning seamlessly into a salute, she conceded with a, “You got it, boss.”

He pointed a claw emphatically, “Good,” and began to walk away.

“Unless he is an asshole, in which case I can’t guarantee the safety won’t come off,” she added once his back was turned, inspecting her nails.

He grunted back at her, “Long as you don’t have a fucking itchy trigger finger. Alright? Alright.”

With a smile, she called to him as he trudged back to the stairwell, “Don’t worry about it. You got my word.”


	20. Confluence

“Just the salad, please. Thanks.”

The two passed their menus to the antelope server. As he trotted off, Avo relaxed in her chair, eyeing the bat seated across from her. The air was starting to get cold, so they’d opted to sit indoors. Despite being midday on a weekend, only a few mammals sat scattered throughout the restaurant. She gave him a sly look. “Just the salad? Well now, who’re you trying to impress,” she teased.

Isaac smirked with a clearly prepared response. “You wouldn’t know her. Wolf, real looker, real hard to please.”

She gave him a toothy grin and leaned over the table. “Two-timing me with some other bad bitch, huh.”

He put on the most disinterested face he could muster and looked away. “Yeah, sorry babe, you had your chance.”

“I’m heartbroken,” she dryly replied, flicking the edge of her water glass and creating a resonant ting. “Hey. Did I tell you about the new resident yet?”

“Um, no.” Isaac picked up a straw and tapped it on the table until the paper covering broke. As he did so, he asked, “Someone finally grabbed that apartment downstairs?”

“Tch.” She crossed her arms. “Landlord fucking gouged the price with the recent news shitstorm. Guess it’s harder to market an apartment in a predominantly pred neighborhood these days.”

“Well, at least somebody got a good deal?” He paused to take a sip of water. “Sorta.”

“Get this, though. He’s a sheep,” she added wryly.

Isaac nearly choked on his water, “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me.” She calmly picked up her own glass.

The bat hacked and cleared his throat with a perplexed look. “Is- is he a registered predo or something?”

“Look who’s talkin’. From what I’ve seen, I would not be surprised,” she said, teeth gleaming around the straw they cradled. She sighed, “But, the guy is holed up most of the time, so I’ve barely seen him yet. Marty and Al have talked to him already. Big surprise, Marty already fucking hates him.”

Isaac pouted and kicked his legs. “Marty hates me, and I only met him once.”

She leaned with her elbows on the table and gave him a sly smile. “What’d you say to him again? George R.R. Marten sucks?”

“Not those exact words,” the bat meekly admitted, rubbing his arm.

Avo took another sip of her drink and fell back in her seat. “Don’t talk books with him. Safe bet.”

“Yeah, no, I got that now,” he muttered as he looked off to the side dejectedly. “Anyway, anything else new?”

With a devious grin, she mused, “Actually, we just got some great new harnesses and ball gags in at the Box.” Though still surveying the restaurant, Isaac’s ears perked up. Embracing the opportunity, she extended her leg under the table so that her paw brushed his foot. He squirmed at the sudden invasion of personal space, face red. “If you drop by, I could help you find just the right ones,” she casually added.

“I.” He took a deep breath and raised an eyebrow as if legitimately considering. Finally, with a drawn out exhalation, he replied, “I’m good.”


	21. A Good Samaritan

“Holy shit, he actually said that to you in person,” Avo snickered, trying exceptionally hard to keep it from graduating into a cackle.

Sighing out a pillow of smoke, Betty grumbled through her clenched teeth, cigarette suspended between them. “Fuckin’ hard for me to keep a straight face when he said it, too.”

Avo grinned and gave her a playful nudge. “He gets points in my book.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she dismissed, lightly shoving Avo away. A small smile formed around the cigarette nonetheless. “He’s got balls, but they deflate real quick. Ain’t brave or oblivious, just a stubborn dumbass that shoots his mouth off.”

“I feel like I’m familiar with the type,” Avo mused with a certain stoat coming to mind.

Picking up on the association, Betty plucked the cig from her mouth and tapped it. “Nah, not like Marty. It’s like he overthinks everything but somehow just says shit without actually thinking.” She lightly rapped the side of her head to illustrate. “All wool up there, no brains.”

“Hey, he got a burn in on you.”

“Yeah, and I’m a big fuckin’ target,” Betty snorted. She muttered under her breath, “Just so happens that if you hit said target, it’ll hit you back twice as hard.”

Avo gave her a sly look. “And that’s why he’s hospitalized right now instead of cozy in his apartment, right?”

“Feh,” Betty waved her cigarette hand dismissively once before placing it back in her mouth. “I swallowed my pride and picked a lock for him,” she shrugged. “Not without roughing him up a little, of course.”

“Seems like a bad business model for a locksmith,” Avo jokingly scoffed, leaning in.

Betty released a large plume of smoke in her face. “Oh, he’ll pay me back. I was just bein’ neighborly. You know, what’s the fuckin’ word Al used? Cordial?”

“Ha,” she coughed, waving a hand, “He gave you that whole spiel too?”

“Mm,” Betty grunted. “We’ll see how long that lasts. Yarnball’s itching to get some sense knocked into him.”

“Speaking of knocking sense into things, I’m gonna head over to Packers,” Avo replied, punctuating it with a casual point of her thumb over her shoulder.

“Alright.” Betty snapped as if realizing something and pointed a claw at her. “Remember, Ozzy’s got that thing planned.”

“I’ll remember,” she assured, swishing past Betty toward the entrance to the Crowns. Without another word, she slipped inside.

“Fuckin’ mom jeans,” Betty grumbled through billowing smoke once she was out of earshot.


	22. Words of Reassurance

“Hey,” the black wolf grunted to a hooded passerby. “Shortstuff. Stop exercising and c’mere.” The small figure complied and pulled back the light gray hood, showing his long face and pointed ears. Betty nonchalantly took another puff of her cigarette. “Bat, huh. Isaac, right?”

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Betty,” she confirmed. Despite feeling like an introduction, she didn’t move or extend her arm to shake. He awkwardly shuffled his talons inside the pockets of his jacket. “Guess we finally meet face to face.” His eyes darted to the side for a split second and returned to meet hers. She looked him over, sizing him up. “Y’know, for someone who’s dropped by here a couple times now, you sure do like to fuckin’ skulk around,” she remarked through another breath of smoke. “Scared a big bad wolf that ain’t all smiles like Avo might flip out on ya?” She even punctuated it with a snap of her teeth.

“Not exactly, no,” he replied without hesitation, though somewhat meekly.

She actually gave him a small smirk for it. “Well in spite of that wimpy ass answer, you’re either a good liar or tellin’ the truth.” Despite the compliment, she stared him dead in the eye. “What’s the deal then.”

He thought for a moment, then responded in a neutral tone, “I’m just... quiet.” 

That act might fool prey, but predator instincts pick up on slightest physiological changes. She knew that beneath the seemingly calm exterior his heart was racing and he was sweating. That, and he’d occasionally break eye contact with her. She took a drag of her cigarette and teased, “What’s wrong, only got eyes for Avo?”

The bat’s eyes widened a little in surprise. “I-“

“It was a joke,” she snorted, more smoke released. She ground the tip of the cig into the concrete step beneath her. As she did so, she glanced up at him suspiciously. “Sure do act different when she’s not around though.”

He stuttered, “Have you been-“

“Spying? Fuck no,” she casually replied. “Just seen you and her together recently. She’s mentioned you, too, if that gets you off.” His heartbeat was actually slowing along with his breath. He kept his breaths quiet and deep. It reminded her of the zen meditation junk they talk about with those naturalist places. Based on what she’d observed, though, she had him pegged. “Anyway, it’s my job to make sure everyone round here is doin’ okay. Keeping good company.”

He calmly exhaled with lowered eyes, “Hope I fit the bill?”

“That self-deprecating shit is cute, but it’s gonna wear thin real quick.” She could tell what was going on under the surface. It wasn’t a fear fear. He’d told the truth before about that. It was some sort of psyching-yourself-out fear. Can’t talk much because he’s devoting all his focus to hiding physical tells. Keeping his heart rate under control, his breathing and expression. Taxing shit. Probably couldn’t tell a lie even if he wanted to. No room to think one up. She sighed, looking down at the smothered cigarette still in her hand. “I also wanted to thank you for checking in on her the other day. Fuckin’ knew she was hiding something from me.”

“It was no trouble,” he tried to convince her. Has probably been convincing himself.

She refuted it with a snort. “Ha. Hard to believe that after she fucking dangled you off a rooftop just a few days earlier.” She could see him wince ever-so-slightly. “Musta riled her up with something. Not to mention you tattled on me.”

He tried to force a smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I’m bad at hiding things.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” she smirked, crossing her arms. Doesn’t account for how hard he’s been trying. 

“In any case, I’m sorry for telling her,” the smile sank to something more melancholy.

“It’s fine.” Flicking the cigarette butt toward him, she stood, towering above. To his credit, he didn’t flinch. “Just don’t do it again, and we won’t have a problem.”

He suddenly gave her something like a bow. First time he’d unfurled his wings. His hood fell back over his head. “You’ve got my word.” Must be some bat thing. Or he’s just fuckin’ weird.

She paid it no mind. “Good. And that’s all I’ve got for you,” she said with a toothy grin. She made a terse shooing motion as she moved to her apartment building’s door. “Now skedaddle.”

As he resumed walking, he remarked, “It was nice to finally meet you.”

It took a second to register to her. “Right,” she muttered, hesitating with her hand on the door. Something was definitely off about the guy, but it wasn’t a threat. Anything beyond that was no longer her business.


	23. Anesthesiac

“Who’s this.” Avo tapped a claw on his phone’s lock screen. Pictured was a female flying fox, microphone in-hand, seemingly belting something out on a stage. Some of her features felt familiar to Isaac’s, but there were notable differences. The most salient was her teeth. She had fangs similar to Isaac’s, but also her front two teeth looked longer and sharper. “Got a sister?”

His talon hesitated on the lock button. “Yeah. Her name was Diana,” he smiled faintly, lingering on the photo.

“Was? Like she got her name changed or-“ Something clicked not even a second after she said it. She cut herself off, “Ah shit, don’t tell me.”

“It’s okay. It was a while ago,” he replied in a neutral tone.

“That’s rough.” It was all she could think of to say.

He didn’t seem too phased by it, though. “Yeah. She had a great voice. We used to talk about starting a band.” With a few taps of the screen, he brought up an album of old pictures showing the two of them presumably on-stage. In his talons for most of them was a standard if small guitar. He seemed to gaze at them nostalgically. “I even helped her record demos and stuff,” he muttered in a bittersweet tone.

Feeling increasingly awkward for inspiring the current topic, a feeling she loathed, she tried to divert to a more positive mood. She slid closer to him on the couch, deliberately making the cushion beneath them bounce to jostle him. He seemed to snap out of the haze. “Honestly didn’t think you were the type to wanna be put on a stage.”

With a smug smile, he looked up at her. “There’s something about it. Playing for people. Was really into bat metal.”

It took a moment for the last part to process. She blinked twice. “I’m sorry, bat metal?”

“Bat metal,” he confirmed.

“What makes it any different from regular metal?”

“Well, talons aren’t great for playing guitar the usual way.” He gestured as if to hold an imaginary guitar. “Or most instruments. So, uh, we kinda adapted? Or developed a style of music around that?” He chewed his tongue for a moment, pondering how to convey it. “Like, we can’t play chords unless we tune down or something. And we can’t play scales that well.”

Despite being somewhat lost, Avo considered this a better conversational direction than a deceased family member. “Alright. I’m intrigued. What do you play then?”

He pulled up a browser window. She peered over his shoulder, trying her best to look invested. “Probably easier to show you.” 

The video loaded. First things she noticed: shrieking, a lot of shrieking. The guitars were a constant blistering tremolo too. It felt like fire in musical form. He showed her mercy and paused the video a few seconds in.

“I don’t know what I fuckin’ expected, but it wasn’t that.” She pulled back from over his shoulder. “Hardcore.”

“Had to innovate,” he shrugged.

“If that’s what you wanna call that.” She smirked. “So did your sis do the shrieking?”

“She could, but she was a better traditional singer. Really operatic. Always took choir, made a lot of friends that way,” he reminisced.

“You two were pretty close, huh.”

“Had to be,” he sighed. He rocked the phone back and forth on the cushion. He stared at it intently. “Not many bats in the city, even fewer vampire bats.”

With some hesitation, she asked, “Was she?”

He stopped toying with his phone. “Yeah. She inherited the genes or something. Bats kind of fucked our genetics up being isolated for so long.”

She’d forgotten what he’d told her about the bat tribes before. She recalled her own distaste toward the blood suckers, or more toward the act of blood sucking. It was hard to believe such a practice or instinct still existed in present day. People were going savage, though, so maybe the past wasn’t as far behind as she’d hoped. “That was probably rough,” she eventually empathized. 

“I took care of her,” he said to her with a sad smile. “Made sure nothing would get in her way.”

“Sweet of you,” she tried to smile back. Suddenly, she slapped a hand onto his head and ruffled his fur. He almost squeaked. “And kinda stupid if I’m picking up on the undercurrent here correctly.”

As she let go, he shook his head as if it would reset his tussled hair. “Turns out no matter how thick you think your skin gets, you take enough punches, even for someone else, and you start to bleed internally.”

“Poetic,” she said with a toothy grin. With a sardonic tone, she also decided, “Needlessly melodramatic.” He shrugged at her with a consternated smirk. “But I’ll do you one better,” she mused, “Helps to stop picking at the fuckin’ scabs so that they can actually heal.”

“If we’re going to keep being poetic, you’re one of the bandages to keep me from picking,” he joked.

“Gross, dude.” She pushed him over with a comical grimace. “Don’t put me on that shit.”

“Too late,” he deadpans, limply sideways with one wing hanging off the couch. “You’re in the shit now.“

“Fuck.”


	24. Updraft

“Hoooooly fuck that’s the good stuff,” she proclaimed, slamming the shot glass onto the counter. The bar was scarce, only a couple occupants left given it was the middle of the week and odd hours. Of course, Avo didn’t care. Probably better this way.

Neil followed suit next to her and hollered a, “Hell yeah!” The two grinned like maniacs with toothy, drunken smiles.

Cliff stood close by, silently tabulating the cost of drinks so far, until shrugging and taking his shot. Avo was paying, apparently. But why she was paying for a celebration of an unpaid promotion eluded him. Cliff nudged Avo, “So is it really that huge of a deal? Like, when you said you got a promotion and to meet at the Box, I thought you meant at work or something.”

Neil sputtered something of a laugh as Avo put a hand up on Cliff’s shoulder. “Cliff. Buddy. You ain’t a pack pred. This shit is a legit promotion,” she slurred. “Omega is bottom of the chain, designated loner, frienemy number one, the punching bag.”

Neil walked over to Cliff and performed some kind of combined fall and nuzzle against him. Neil smirked, “So, who’s the new omega?”

Avo gave an exaggerated, dismissive wave. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Seems like a harsh life,” Cliff remarked, having the leopard bartender pour another round.

Grabbing her new shot, Avo held it out in front of herself. “Hey, I was living that harshness up until now. I’m sure he can take it. Plus, it’s really just a formality thing at this point.” She shook the glass impatiently, rallying the other two to pick up their own glasses. “In any case, I’m fuckin’ free of that shit.” It was like a glimmer of good fortune in a city going to shit. Who knows. Remmy was back in good graces with Al, so pack life was back in balance, no outstanding beefs. Isaac was moderating the stream, so she didn’t have to deal with anonymous assholes there. The whole savages thing was beginning to feel dulled, like background noise. It could just be the drinks, yet she felt something like a numbing but comfy peace.

Together, the trio clinked the small glasses in a toast. While the other two were preoccupied, Cliff signaled the bartender discretely that he should probably cut them off. 

***

“Okay,” Lyle clapped his hooves together in a bid for attention. “Hear me out. Post-bat metal. Battened-death metal.”

Isaac slowly spun in his studio chair, dropping his headphones on the giant mixing console. He held a neutral expression, but replied nonetheless, “You have my attention.”

Somewhat fazed by the bat’s natural deadpan, Lyle doubled down, “Okay, see, there are these bands that are moving on from the old shit in every sub-genre. From like the played out, same old same old shit. But they’re passing along the good shit in these post-genres. That’s the sweet spot these days. The new shit. And that’s where we come in.”

“And I am the token bat to make it actual bat metal?”

“No, no...” he hesitated, scrunching his face in internal debate. “Okay partially, but hey, goats have a fuckin’ storied history in metal too. In true metal,” he stipulated. “So it meshes. It’ll be perfect.” Isaac maintained a blank expression. “C’mon, man, I know you still got material lying around. Listen, I have connections. There’s a folk metal group that’s looking for an opener.” The bat’s ears perked up. “They’re not huge, but they got chops. Just think, me on vocals, you on guitar, I got some session musician friends who can fill in the gaps, real fast learners...”

Isaac sighed deeply, but he gave the stocky goat a smirk. “Know what? Yeah. I’m in. Always nice to hear my stuff performed.” Couple months, hell, a couple weeks ago and he probably wouldn’t have given it much thought. Maybe he was just in a “fuck it” kind of mood, but he remembered talking to Avo about Diana and his music in the past few weeks. Serendipity, maybe.

In the midst of Isaac’s introspection, however, Lyle pumped his hooves in victory. “Hell yeah! I’m gonna make some calls!” And with that, Isaac suddenly had a band again.


	25. Warranty

“You’re looking for what? A warranty. A warranty on your sex toy,” she dryly confirmed with her caller. Avo rapped her claws on the store counter. Every so often some weirdo tries to return used toys, and every time it baffles her. “Buddy, I don’t think anyone wants to accept a used toy.”

She inspected her fingers for a second and sighed. “It’s not used? Well, is it still in the box?” She paused to let him answer, but he started to make excuses. “If it’s out of the box, then it’s considered used, least with us.” The voice on the other line pleaded for her to hear him out.

She leaned her back against the counter. Store was empty, save for her, so she didn’t have to keep an eye on wandering customers. “You’re sure it’s broken? I know these things, they’re pretty durable.” In fact, she’d written about the brand before. Gave some pointers too. He tried to say he knew it was a defective product, yet he hadn’t partaken in it yet. She rolled her eyes. “But if it hasn’t been used, how do you know? I understand you don’t wanna get into details, and let me tell you, I really don’t want to hear them. Here. I’m going to look up the manufacturer, see if they’ve got anything, okay?” The voice gave his approval. “Alright.”

She turned to the computer at the register and searched the item number. She gave the store record a once-over before looking for the manufacturer or wholesale contact. “And you’re sure it was from us? Last one of that model was given out as a gift order it looks like.” The voice protested. 

“Alright, alright. Here, the company is called Bram Strokers. Hilarious. Send them a picture of the... what do you mean you can’t?” Her eyes widened with incredulity listening to his reasoning. 

“Melted?! Melted,” she replied twice, confirming she heard right. With two claws, she rubbed her temples. “This is sounding more like user error than warranty, guy.” The caller must’ve sensed judgment as he stammered a justification. “I don’t care what you read online, you’re the one liable here. I’m just trying to save you the time and the sanity of a customer service rep.”

She heard the line click. “Hello?” Checking the phone’s display, he hung up on her. “Fuckin’ good riddance,” she muttered. She pulled up a tab on her phone to a retail site. She’d thought she recognized something. The top of her user profile read “QueenODenial.”

“You give people free, good advice and some moron still finds a way to fuck it all up,” she sighed, before locking her phone.


	26. Freefall

“If I went savage, what would you do,” Avo mused, leaning against the damp bar. 

“That’s a little morbid,” Isaac replied, kicking his short legs on the worn-out stool. It squeaked, barely audible amidst the music and conversations of the venue around them. 

Avo looked off to the side, scoping out the other bar denizens. Lot of preds. Made sense, since the main act was pred-fronted from what she knew. “Be honest. How would you take me out.”

“Dinner and a movie probably.”

She smirked and gave him a push that left the stool seat spinning slowly. “I appreciate it. But seriously, you gotta worry about this shit, right?”

He steadied himself with the edge of the bar. “You’re not going to go savage,” he said without much hesitation.

“You don’t fuckin’ know that,” she scoffed.

“I don’t.”

They sat listening to the music for a moment before Avo picked things up again. “It’s scary. Thinking that you could just lose yourself and hurt the people around you. Shit. At least on Pack Street there are people that could hold me down.” She looked down at Isaac, who seemed to have locked his gaze on the small stage. Various stagehands were quickly taking apart the last act’s equipment. “Out with you or just other places, it’s hard not to feel like a liability or something. I wanna write it off as media fear-mongering or some shit, but... fuck me it’s still scary.”

“It’ll be fine,” he reassured in a neutral but calming tone. It was odd to see how relaxed he was given the environment. Guy was a walking ball of anxiety yet managed to stay cool on the outside. Granted, she could tell his heart had been going crazy when they first entered the place, but he chilled out real quick, despite a large crowd of large, predominantly predator mammals. He’d said some shit about meditation before, but it seemed like a bunch of crap. Maybe metal makes him chill, ironically.

She poked him just in case to check if he’d zoned out or dissociated or something. He grabbed her finger reflexively before it could touch his wing. She sighed, “Do you really believe that?”

“I gotta. You know how much of a mess I am already,” he quipped.

“True, very true,” she nodded astutely.

Isaac twisted the stool back and forth very slightly. “Anyway, you ever think there’s no reason for this to be isolated to predators. I mean, there are prey more closely related to some preds than other prey. I don’t expect, like, my goat coworker to eat his clothes and go out to pasture. I just... I feel like there can’t be a genetic root.”

“Oh, my mistake being scared, Doctor Dingbat. I forgot you got a degree in genetics overnight,” Avo replied with a sarcastic grin.

“I break my back trying to support this family and this is the thanks I get?” He spun and slammed an arm on the bar. “I’ll just have to take my crippling debt and the kids elsewhere. I need another drink.”

Avo gave a single derisive laugh and looked back at the stage. Two white wolves had walked out with gear. Sisters, seemed like. Clad in some badass band shirts and metal accouterments. She nudged Isaac, who’d just gotten a small glass of something from the bartender. “Hot damn, check out these bad bitches.”

He glanced up at them. “Oh yeah, they’re some kind of viking folk metal group. I might be opening for them if I’m lucky.”

Avo raised an eyebrow. “A what what metal group?”

“...You are in for a treat,” he chuckled.

They began their sound check, but Avo was suddenly aware of a buzzing on her thigh. Reluctantly pulling out her phone, she saw the caller and answered curiously. “Hey, Neil. Yeah, I’m fine.” He was speaking fast. Wherever he was seemed almost as loud as the venue, making it hard to pick out what he was saying. “Slow down. Yeah, I- No, I’m at a concert, it’s hard to fuckin’ hear,” she explained with some annoyance. “Why didn’t you just text? What’s... okay, repeat what you just said.” She pressed her other hand to her free ear, trying to block out the ambience. Gradually, her expression sunk from annoyance to a deep concern. “You’re at the Box? And then- Oh... O-okay, no, thanks for checking up on me it’s- yeah, I’ll... I’ll be okay, you two take care.” She hung up and took a deep breath. The air in the place was stuffy and smoky, not ideal for trying to calm down. Her blood ran cold, and she noticed her heart beating faster, like a panic attack. She waved a hand in front of Isaac’s face to get his attention. He looked at her, a look of concern gradually deepening on his face as he evaluated her own expression. “Sorry. I- I’ve gotta go,” she tried to talk directly in his ear so that he could hear. He had a confused look. She backed away a bit and gripped the edge of the bar. Her claws dug in. She could feel wetness on one side of her face. She wiped it off with her free hand and stared at the residue on her fingers. “Sorry, just. Shit.”

“Oh shit. I...” he started, then clutched the top of his seat. “Go, don’t worry,” he told her, trying his best to keep a reassuring smile on his face. As she turned to leave, she felt a talon wrap around her wrist. She looked back at him. “I learned my lesson last time, but please, please let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Yeah,” she said hastily, “I will.” He let go and she took another deep breath. “Sorry, I’ll be fine.” With that, she pulled on her jacket and took off toward the door, leaving him alone at the bar.


	27. Schadenfreude

Avo’s boss was hospitalized recently. Really shook her up. She didn’t have time to deal with it, though. Without a steady job for the foreseeable future, she had to change up her stream schedule, draw in a new audience from both diurnal and nocturnal mammals. It made up for some of the income loss. Friends helped with the rest. 

As a consequence of the schedule changes, some of her streams occasionally overlapped with my work. I’d been moderating the live chat for assholes ever since the “savage” phenomenon in the news became a thing. I assured her I’d still be able to do it despite the conflicting times. So, while I worked behind the soundboard, I had my phone off to the side, volume muted and chat isolated. The studio manager, a stag named Darius, rarely sat in for my sessions, and the artists were typically isolated to the recording booth. Plus, I had a swivel chair, so if anybody came in, I could just snatch up the phone and face them in an instant. As inconspicuously as I could, I mean.

Well, it’s midday and I’m working with this idol group from out of the country. I guess their manager had some sort of deal with us. The group was big enough that I could see them being on an international level as far as popularity. Anyway, of course there’s a stream going. When I first got in the booth and opened it on my phone, I’d forgotten I’d been showing Darius something earlier that morning with the volume up. So, what greets me is of course an over-the-top moan. I jumped, fumbled the phone, and held down the volume control for an excruciating amount of time. I was the only one in the room at the time, but I kept looking back at the door like someone would be listening in.

Potential crisis averted, despite a slight heart attack.

Idol group comes in, their different singers record one at a time. They’d pop in the booth occasionally, sometimes their manager or producer sat in, but I kept the phone silent and out of sight. It’s getting late in the session, I’m the only one in the room. My phone’s sitting on the controls while I focus on the mix, making slight adjustments on the faders. Suddenly, I have the distinct impression that someone is standing over me. 

I nearly screech. Darius is right behind me. I look at his face. He’s staring right at the phone. I swear he was like a deer in headlights. He starts to ask, “Isaac, are you... is that...”

My mind is moving a mile a minute. I try to say, “Wait I can explain.” I also try to say, “It’s not what it looks like.”

What I end up saying, well yelling, is, “IT’S NOT WHAT I CAN EXPLAIN LIKE.”

Suffice to say, we never talked about it again.


	28. A Strange New Day

“You know, I thought I’d be relieved. Like just relieved. But no, I’m fuckin’ pissed. After that initial wave of peace, I’m just fuckin’ pissed.” Avo suddenly swung her head up from the back of the couch it was resting on, carrying the momentum in her hands which then clutched the ratty cushion beneath her. “Damn it I’m fuckin’ pissed!” She jerked her head to her left and yelled, “Betty!”

The black wolf gave her a tired look from the small table nearby. She blinked once and sighed, “You got every right to be.”

“It’s like salt in the fucking wound. They attack Dora right on the cusp of being found out. A day or two earlier and she’d still be here. I’d still have a job. Charlie’d be okay.” Avo stood, gesticulating wildly. “But no, our lives get shaken up just for this shit to get swept under the fuckin’ rug. False alarm, guys, you aren’t a danger to society after all, now wait for us to address all the leftover consequences of this fucking mess.” She looked to the TV for a second as the flickering news backdrop changed. The motion had caught her eye, but she’d had enough of the news today. She looked around herself for the remote.

Betty picked it up from the table and held it out for her to take. “I ain’t gonna stop you from bitching. It’s a fucking pain in the ass, all of this mess.” As Avo snatched the remote, Betty stipulated, “But I ain’t gonna listen to you bitch much longer.”

Avo held two fingers to her temples with one hand while clicking the TV off. “I was so close, so fucking close to some, I don’t know, peace of mind? This should’ve been it. And it slipped- it just... grah!” She let herself fall back on the couch. The cushions bounced her in response to her impact. 

“You wanna know how you find peace of mind?”

“Not smoking, cause I already kicked that shit once,” she responded.

“It ain’t.”

Avo took a deep breath. “Alright.”

Betty prepared herself, shifting in her seat and straightening her posture, as if an important speaker about to address a TV audience. She cleared her throat, and bluntly said, “Just say you’re at peace.”

Avo waited for more, but when nothing followed, raised an eyebrow. “You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m serious,” Betty replied, slumping back into her previous position. “Fake it till you make it, right?”

Avo squinted at her. “And that’s supposed to... do what?”

“Excuse fuckin’ me for not having a magic bullet for all your problems,” the black wolf groaned. “What I’ve heard, though, is that what you’re thinkin’ influences what you’re doin’, and what you’re doin’ influences what you’re thinkin’.”

“Okay,” Avo said hesitantly.

“Listen,” Betty tapped the table with a claw. “Folks have figured out that shit like smiling and positive thinking ain’t just from feeling good. It can also make you feel good. I’m not saying to bury your problems, but I am saying there’s only so much fucking bitching I can take before I shove a sucker up your ass.” Avo raised both eyebrows and gave her a sly smirk. “Don’t look at me like I gotta clarify that I mean that figuratively.”

“Ah, I see.” Draped over the side of the couch now, Avo inspected her claws. “So this was an extended go fuck yourself.”

“Yeah. It was,” Betty grumbled with a small, facetious grin. “But it’s also some good fuckin’ advice. If you want peace with yourself, you gotta make peace with yourself. Will make dealing with this shit a lot easier in the long run.” She got up from her chair and started to head to the stairs.

“So, when’d you become an actual self-help guru. Thought you just leaned in on your innate motherly wisdom and figure with this kind of stuff,” Avo remarked with a sarcastic smile.

“When you assholes shat the bed and forgot how to help yourselves,” she shot back easily.

Avo stretched and tried to take a deep cleansing breath. “Hey, you knew what you were getting into. ‘Specially with me.”

“Why do you think I fucking go through packs faster than Cormo jumps to fucking conclusions,” Betty grunted, grabbing the banister.

Avo unwrapped a sucker for herself. “Alright, I’ll give it a shot. What the hell.” After popping it in her mouth, she snapped her fingers as if in sudden realization. Betty stopped her ascent and looked back at her. Avo pointed to her. “If Remmy says something stupid, though, I don’t think this’ll help me find peace.”

“I honestly can’t tell if that’s pessimism or optimism.”

“Let’s just call it realism,” Avo replied with an elegant flourish.

Betty sighed but gave her a barely visible sidelong smirk. “In any case, good fuckin’ luck.” Her tone sobered considerably, however. “And speaking of Cormo, I’m gonna pay the cottonswab a little visit.”


	29. Excuses

“I checked all the cables, turned it off and on, did a hard reset, checked the input and output settings...” Avo listed off the details as she strode down the hall. A smaller mammal tried to keep up behind her. Eventually the pair stopped at her apartment.

“Well that’s most of what you can check,” the flying fox dryly replied. He scratched an ear as Avo unlocked the door.

The lock clicked, and she glanced over her shoulder at him. “So I called you over.” A sucker clacked against her teeth as it rolled from one side of her mouth to the other. She pushed the door inward, and they stepped inside her apartment. Avo proceeded to a bedroom door, tail swishing with her quick movement, as the bat lightly shut the door behind them.

“You know I’m not a literal engineer, right,” he quietly remarked. He hopped over to her side again. "Like, I know things but I deal with the actual sound mixing and stuff."

She opened the bedroom door and gestured politely inside with both arms. “Close enough. Besides, you showed me how to set it up.” He walked over to the fancy camera and mic setup across from the bed. Avo crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Don’t you wanna be the big strong man showing the helpless little lady how it’s done,” she mocked in a sultry voice that quickly phased back into the usual snark, “You know? Then one thing leads to another, and they’re buck-naked tangled in a bunch of AV cords.”

“First, who do you think I am, Marty?” He muttered under his breath, “Guy gets off on telling bomb squads they’re doing it wrong.”

“Wow, shortstuff, you met the guy twice and already have him nailed,” she scoffed.

“Second,” he swiveled to her and pointed as if in affirmation, “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that one.”

She shrugged coolly. “What can I say? Some days all you can do is familiarize with the merchandise.” She punctuated it with a wink.

Shaking his head, the flying fox returned to the task at hand, taking a more careful look at the setup. “Alright. First glance, everything looks right. You’re sure it isn’t software related?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll check the cable first.” He picked the thick audio cable up, examining where it connected to the laptop. No indentations or signs of wear. Threading it through his talons, he traced it up to the microphone. He could feel Avo watching him intently. With nothing visible at the mic connection, he decided to check the mic itself. He carefully grabbed the mic to loosen it from the stand, only to have a shiver run down his spine from an unexpected moistness. The mic was coated in something viscous. Avo snorted with a poorly restrained laugh behind him.

“Avo, why is the microphone... sticky.” His mind ran through all the possible conclusions for why the phallic sound-capture device was wet in a cam girl’s boudoir. He turned his head to her with a comical grimace. She was grinning at him. “Avo. What the fuck.”

Knowing full well where his mind would go, she feigned offense. “Wow, Isaac. What kind of girl do you take me for?” His unchanging expression only made her let a stifled laugh slip through. With a sigh, he held his arms up, shaking the talons emphatically at her. She scoffed, still feigning offense, “And here I thought you’d enjoy getting a handful of that. I know a lot of guys who would.” The bats face was flushing red, likely more from embarrassment than anger. Finally, she relented with a smirk. “Relax, it’s not me. Just some product, and its only on the mics handle.” She shook a bottle of something in her paw.

Isaac looked around his immediate vicinity for something to wipe the alleged product off on. “Please don’t be tiger oil.”

“I’m not that cruel.”

He walked over to her, a talon extended accusingly. “That’s debatable.” Not seeing anywhere to cleanse his hands, he sighed. Careful not to touch the bedding, he leaned on the mattress for a moment, suddenly more melancholic. “So, did you just call me over to prank me.”

Her smirk shifted to a more earnest smile at the notion. “As much as I love doing that, that’s not the only reason.” She plopped herself on the edge of the bed next to him after tossing the bottle on a pillow. The mattress shook a bit, and Isaac tried to maintain his posture so as to not slip and touch it. “Was thinking we could grab dinner or something. Been a while.”

Engrossed in figuring out what was on his hands, he absentmindedly quipped, “Skipping right to the dinner? Usually my dates buy me sex first.” He chewed his tongue for a bit mulling over what he’d just said. Avo made an audible snrk. “That sounded wittier in my head.”

He tried to walk out, but she caught him easily by the shoulders from behind. He stiffened up immediately as she loomed over, lowering her snout to graze an ear and curling her tail around his torso. She whispered, “Oh I’m sure something can be arranged, no buying required.” With a flick of her tail she let him go.

Despite releasing him, it took perhaps a full ten seconds before he could actually move a muscle. Like he’d just been drowning, he huffed, “You’re a monster.” He turned and gesticulated at her but kept walking out of the room. “An incredibly fit, incredibly attractive monster.” Then exasperated, and as if just remembering, he added, “I’m gonna wash off whatever this is before I accidentally smear it on my face.” Avo grinned and ended her sucker with a satisfied crunch.

***

“Then Isaac flips out, like freezes up, doesn’t move at all for a full ten seconds,” Avo snickered.

Betty took a drag of her cigarette and blew out smoke, lightly tapping the butt of it. “No shit he froze up, the guy’s into you,” she grumbled.

Avo snorted dismissively, “Yeah, him and a whole club of internet perverts.”

Though Avo joked, Betty raised an eyebrow. “No, I mean he’s fuckin’ into you into you. Like, you specifically, not just your body.”

“Yeah, sure...” Avo chuckled without much thought, then suddenly perked up. “Wait, what?”

Betty gave her an incredulous look. “Holy shit, Avo.”

However, Avo wasn’t paying much attention and scoffed, “No, he’s not.” She turned to Betty, looking for an answer in the wolf’s expression, and her face scrunched with confusion. “Fuck. He is?”

Betty snorted in amusement and took another drag. “I thought you were good at reading people.” Smoke billowed out of her mouth. “I barely know the guy and it’s obvious.”

“I mean, we flirt but it’s just been us messing with each other.” Avo paused. “Mostly.”

Betty gave her a sidelong look. “Are you just fuckin’ with him?”

Avo actually seemed offended, straightening up. “No, I mean, we tease each other and sometimes it feels... but...” she tried to defend herself, but slumped back against the wall. “Fuck, I can’t even tell any more.” She looked the other way and cursed under her breath.

“Haven’t seen you flustered in a while.“ Betty extinguished the cigarette in her hand and tossed it in an ashtray. ”Feeling guilty?”

“No, I...”

Betty crossed her arms. “Or do you feel something back.”

Avo’s eyes widened. “I don’t know, I don't really think about it.” Still slumped against the wall, the wolf’s head slid into her hands in exhaustion. “Guy isn’t exactly here every day,” she tried to rationalize.

Betty smirked and looked away. “Just some food for thought.”

“No shit.”

“You’re still gonna tease him.”

“Yeah, no shit.”


	30. Hindsight

The fading sun cast long shadows over the city. On the horizon, blue turned to orange, and orange turned to scarlet.

She had asked, “Do you think my friends would still be friends with me if I didn’t have a good voice?”

“You wouldn’t have met most of them if you hadn’t joined the choir, if that’s what you mean.”

The female bat kicked a stray pebble caught in a grate off the fire escape. “I just sometimes feel like I’m putting on a face. Doing everything just to keep them from figuring out the real me or something.” She brushed back an ear as the heat of the setting sun’s light made it uncomfortably warm. Her brother stayed within the bar of light, staring off into the distance. She looked at herself in a small compact. “When we first got here, I expected a lot worse. I thought they might recognize my teeth and the nose. I don’t eat at school, but I dunno.” Closing the compact, she leaned back against the wall of the building. “Though I honestly think you catch more flak than I do most days.”

“Eh, I probably deserve it,” her brother smiled dully. He paused for a second, then said, “Can’t help who you are, but so long as you do you, you’ll be fine. Anybody has a problem with it, I’ll kick their ass.”

She put a talon on his shoulder in mock-compassion. “Isaac,” she replied with a dry smirk, “I love you, but you aren’t kicking anyone’s ass anytime soon.”

He leaned his head back so that he could see her over his shoulder. “That’s just not true. I kick my own ass all the time,” he quipped.

Patting him firmly on the shoulder, she lamented, “That’s still not very reassuring.”

“Hey, whatever happens, I got you.” He tilted his head back down to watch the horizon. “And when you rise to international stardom, I expect to live in the basement of your mansion,” he joked, scooting closer to her.

“Maybe a broom closet,” she corrected.

“I could make that work,” he nodded lazily.

“There’ll be brooms and crap in there too.” She lightly pushed him over with her foot.

“I could make that work,” he replied again casually, though now sideways against the warm metal grating. He blinked twice and watched the sun slowly sink from the sky.


	31. Rendezvous

“Curious,” the vixen murmured to no one in particular.

Marty shifted on the couch, peering over the side. Charlie sat next to him quietly sipping on something. He squinted through the dim light of the television in the dark lobby. “What, who is it? Oh, bat boy.”

The vixen placed her drink on a nearby tray and slid off the couch, her baggy sweater’s sleeves trailing slightly behind. She called out to him. “Isaac, right?”

The door shut behind the startled bat, and he gave a meek, “Yeah.”

She quietly walked over to him. “I’d heard about you, but now we finally meet face to face.” Nearly at the same eye level, she held out a paw. “Charlie.”

“Hopefully all good things...” He met her paw with a talon somewhat awkwardly, gently shaking it. “Charmed.”

Charlie intently observed the talon, then his wings, with her narrow eyes. He had to pull away from her after a moment too long. “So what is it you do exactly,” she asked.

He started with some hesitation, “I’m a sound engin-“

She calmly interrupted. “I already know that. I mean what is your business here with Avo.” Her eyes met his with an inquisitive stare.

“That’s a rather personal question.” He couldn’t help but shift his eyes a bit to break the eye contact.

The vixen took a step closer, however, cocking her head as she made her proposal. “Would you ever consider putting your unique talents to use in a potentially lucrative alternative business opportunity?”

“Talents?”

She took a step back and counted them off on her fingers. “Flight. Echolocation.”

“I, uh, can’t echolocate.” His eyes darted back and forth between the shadowed stairs and Charlie.

“Interesting.” Pointing at his wings, she confirmed, “But you can fly.”

“Yeah, but.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he decided to reject the offer before things went on much longer. “Just uh, no thanks.”

Charlie calmly shrugged, catching the cue, and went back to the couch. “Sorry to hear that.” She gave him a look over her shoulder and a sly smile. “Another time, perhaps.”

Marty chimed in, though still focused on whatever late night flick was on the television. “What, too good for her? Just shutting down the conversation like that?” Isaac shifted his position a bit, staring at the stairway, as Charlie took up her drink and place on the couch again. When he didn’t respond, the stoat turned to him. “Hey, I’m talking to you! Those big bat ears work?”

Before Isaac could say anything, a familiar figure finally appeared at the top of the stairs, her face faintly lit by the screen of her phone. “Just got your text...” Avo looked over the lobby with an eyebrow raised, first at Isaac, then Marty and Charlie, then back to Isaac.

The bat hurried over to the base of the stairway, diverting from the odd tension. “Uh, excuse me.” He met Avo halfway up, eventually passing her. On her way back up, Avo flipped Marty off as she slowly ascended and disappeared behind the wall.

Marty slumped back in his seat, focusing again on the television. “Fuck that guy.”

“I thought you preferred people who don’t chit chat,” Charlie mused.

“Yeah well he just rubs me the wrong way.”

Giving him a look out of the corner of her eye, she took a long sip of her drink. “Mhm.”

 

***

“Come along, Hogson. I fear the culprit has already fled the estate.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Get a load of this guy too.” Avo jabbed a claw at an old sloth with a ridiculous curled mustache in the background of the shot. “No wonder I’ve never seen this movie before,” she mocked, though nonetheless seemed invested.

Isaac shook his head in the flickering of the computer’s monitor. “What, The Adventures of Sherlock Stoat?” He waved his talons emphatically, disturbing the small quilt on his back. “It’s a classic!”

Avo slid back in her seat. She gave him a sidelong smirk. “Didn’t they make a new one recently? With that wolf guy?”

“Yeah, but I like the actors in the old one,” he pouted.

She nudged his bundle of blanket with her elbow. “If I wanted to watch a smartass stoat point out minutia, I’d just go downstairs.”

Isaac scoffed, “Wow, minutia?”

Her smirk turned into a smug toothy grin as she turned to him. “Yeah, you like it when I talk fancy?”

He took a sip of tea from a mug resting on his armrest. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

With a theatrical gasp, she protested, “Excuse you, I am a classy lady.” She punctuated it with an exaggerated sip from her own mug, littlest claw extended.

“You’re stirring your tea with a lollipop.” He flicked the stem of the sucker in the nearly empty mug as she lowered it, causing it to circle around the edge.

“Hey, Van Goat clipped his ears decades ago, and now all the kids are doing it... no pun intended.” She sighed melodramatically and shrugged at him. “Visionaries are never appreciated in their time.” Isaac couldn’t help but chuckle into his tea as he tried to drink it.

They both fell silent for a moment, watching the posh stoat dig up an old revolver buried in some mansion’s flowerbed. Isaac softly tapped the edge of his mug, then looked at his tea in contemplation. He sighed.

“Pass me a sucker?”


	32. Daybreak

“You ever feel like your skin’s gonna fall off?”

Avo felt the edges of her eyes scrunch into a confused squint, as if narrowing her sight would better allow her to parse the question. “No... no, I would say I haven’t.” She looked at Isaac beside her with a concerned grimace. “Do I need to take you to a doctor?” The two of them sat on the roof of the Crowns again, early in the morning. There was something nice about the air up there and the feel of it warming under the sunrise.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I think it’s an anxiety thing.” The bat lifted his right arm and poked the forearm. “Like your skin just feels uncomfortable or hypersensitive all over. You wish you could just kinda slip out of it for a while.”

“You’d just be a skeleton,” she replied, still mulling over the concept. Finally, with a sigh, she resolved, “Actually, that’d be pretty sweet.”

Isaac looked down and gestured at his lanky figure. “Honestly I’d probably look about the same,” he admitted.

“I think I’d enjoy it.”

He turned to her with an eyebrow raised. “Something about dogs and bones?”

Without missing a beat, she gave him a sly grin. “Cause you’d just be a giant boner.”

“Holy shit,” he muttered at the revelation. Using the most awestruck face he could muster, he gazed up at her and slowly raised his arms in triumph. He punctuated it in a simple deadpan, “Finally I would know how it feels to truly please a woman.”

“Yep. We’d rent you out and make a fortune.” Her sucker rolled from one side of her mouth to the other in a contemplative pause. “Our little golden boner boy.”

“I’m going to go legally change my name.”

“Golden boner boy?”

“Golden boner boy,” he confirmed.

“Has a nice ring to it. I’d like royalties on that,” she added, completely serious.

With his arms like bungee cords, he latched onto the ledge and leaned back, closing his eyes with a smirk. “You’re already turning me out for big money, now you gotta add royalties on top?”

“Oh yeah. I fucking own you,” she said with a saucy grin. “Anyway, boner boy, are you feeling like your skin’s gonna fall off right now?”

“What a deduction,” he replied with one eye open. He let go of the ledge and fell onto the roof in a sort of backwards tumble. “Sadly, yeah. It’s weird. Like my skin’s super sensitive.”

She muttered to herself while he was still turned away, “So if I were to...” With one claw she poked his back. Almost reflexively he spun and nearly batted her hand with a wing.

As he did so, he jumped and let out a, “GaaAGH.”

Avo laughed, her grin graduated to shit-eating status. “Wow, you seriously fuckin’ flinched?”

“I told you,” he muttered defensively behind a wing.

“Well, what about...” Suddenly she loomed over him. It took him a second to realize, and he only let out a squeak in surprise. There wasn’t time to react.

“Ngh.” He shuddered as she, surprisingly, just lightly traced her claw down his arm. Interestingly, he didn’t swat her away this time. Instead, his muscles seemed to relax, and he murmured, “Holy fuck.”

“Well that’s a reaction,” she smirked. She stopped and tapped him on the head a few times with a contemplative claw. “Might you be enjoying this, boner boy?”

Blushing immediately through his dark fur, he quickly scooted away from her. “It was... strangely relaxing.”

She cooly inspected her claws. “I could do it again, but it’ll cost you.”

Sighing, he sat himself on the ledge again, facing her. “I’m sensing a theme tonight.”

“Tch.” Her smile sank back to a neutral expression. “Maybe I do got money on the mind.” She walked back to the ledge and sat next to him. The sun shone comfortably on their backs. “Shit sucks. Pandora’s not back yet. I thought they had a cure or something already.” She flicked the stick of her sucker over the edge.

“She was one of the last ones, right? Whatever they used was probably still pretty potent when the news broke.” Isaac gave her what felt like a penitent look. “Maybe it’s taking a while to get it out of her system.”

“It ain’t fair,” she glowered, eyes narrowed at nothing in particular. “Dora’s a damn good person. She didn’t deserve this.” 

“None of you did, but at least it’s over.”

Her hands tightened on her knees. “But now what. Is it back to the status quo, the same old shitty prejudice? They don’t have to fear us anymore, but they probably will.” She fumbled for a new sucker in her pocket. It shook out and fell to the ground, luckily still wrapped. She let it sit for a moment. “They’ll probably still look at us like fucking monsters.”

Isaac grasped at it and eventually managed to pass it to her. She couldn’t help but smirk at the difficulty he had grabbing it. “Hey. Anybody has a problem with you, I’ll kick their ass.”

Unwrapping the sucker, she sputtered slightly at his claim. “I appreciate it, but I can’t imagine you kicking anyone’s ass.”

He gave her a reassuring smile. There was something nostalgic about it. “That’s just not true. I kick my own ass constantly.”

Unwrapping the sucker, she smiled in return. “Touché.”


	33. Diva

“Play me something.”

“Like what?” Isaac idly strummed, reclining in the big studio chair. The guitar on his lap appeared to simply be a small standard electric guitar. On his talons, however, were some strange accouterments. Each of them bore a ring. The right had, predictably, a guitar pick affixed to the ring, but the left had something like a false fingertip.

“Anything,” Lyle shrugged, but quickly added, “Well, not exactly anything. Just show me your chops. I know you bats don’t got much to work with in terms of fingers, but I’ve seen some shit on ZooTube.”

Isaac took a breath and tried to think of something to play. Lyle had reminded him that their first practice would be this night literally an hour ago. He had actually forgotten. Luckily, they had a studio guitar for mammals about his size on hand. He twisted the top string’s tuning knob on the head of the guitar, strumming at a moderate pace and listening to the pitch sink carefully. Once satisfied, he settled on a riff. 

He began with an open power chord using the top two strings. After a second, he slid his left talon down the string. It made a shrill grinding sound before turning into the note he stopped at. From there, he pulled the string and let go. In rapid succession, he repeated the motion at several frets. The open string acted like a rhythm guitar line as he played the melody with the pull-offs higher up. Every so often, he would elegantly jump his right talon up to the fretboard to tap a note or two, breaking up the otherwise potentially   
monotonous back and forth of the open string and his left talon. The speed gradually increased until he punctuated the excerpt with a tapped arpeggio. On the last note, he held it with a blistering tremolo. He let go, and took a sudden breath. Apparently he’d stopped breathing while he was playing. 

Lyle didn’t seem to notice and gave him smug, but genuine, applause. “That’s fuckin’ sweet. So, what can’t you do?”

Relaxing back into the chair, because apparently he’d also stiffened up, Isaac listed off, “Larger chords or power chords not on the top strings, scales, runs, sweeps...”

“Mostly fancy frills or unnecessary, got it,” Lyle sarcastically cut in.

“I don’t know about that,” he replied.

The swarthy goat clapped his hooves and pointed at him. “Hey, the chops you do got is enough to carry things. Plus, any gaps can be filled by a backing track or something.”

“Fair,” Isaac muttered. “When are the others arriving?”

Lyle snorted, looking back over his shoulder at the door, “Well, our drummer should be here any second now and speak of the Tasmanian devil.”

The door slowly opened, and it was definitely not a Tasmanian devil. No, this was a tall stag in a sleek business-casual outfit. Isaac blinked a couple times. “Sorry I’m late,” the stag said. Apparently Darius, the studio manager, was their drummer.

“What, traffic hold you up,” Lyle quipped.

Darius rubbed the back of his neck with a smirk. “Oh yeah.” He’d obviously just walked down the hall from his office.

“Or were you just doin’ Julia in booth seven?” The goat gave him a knowing wink.

Darius hesitated with his mouth somewhat slack, then simply replied, “No comment.”

Lyle chuckled, “Don’t be such a deer in headlights. Isaac was just showing me his chops.” He motioned to Isaac awkwardly spinning around in his chair with the guitar still in-hand.

“Ah,” Darius narrowed his eyes, “So you were just projecting on me to hide your affair with Isaac.”

Lyle sputtered a laugh. “It was a phenomenal striptease, if I’m being perfectly honest.” 

“Would prefer to move on from the sex talk,” Isaac offhandedly remarked, still spinning and lazily strumming the guitar.

Lyle gave him a smarmy grin. “Whatsa matter, scared I’ll make your porn star girlfriend jealous?”

Darius started, “Porn star girlfr-“

“She’s neither a porn star nor my girlfriend,” Isaac tiredly interjected, holding up a talon. 

Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, Lyle raised an eyebrow. “She’s your female friend that makes porn.”

“Doesn’t make her a porn star.” He was facing the opposite direction at that point. Nonetheless, he pointed forward for emphasis, like dotting a bullet point in the air.

Lyle’s face scrunched in displeasure, but Darius casually added, “Well that explains that one time.”

The goat’s eyes widened at a potential story, turning to Darius like a giddy child. “What time?”

Cheeks flushed, Isaac spun and stopped so that he faced Darius. “We swore not to mention that ever again.”

“We never agreed to anything,” the stag scoffed.

The bat squeaked, “It was implied!”

Despite his previous enthusiasm, Lyle clapped his hooves to grab their attention. “I feel like I missed something great and I hate it,” he admitted, “But fuck it, let’s make some fuckin’ metal.”


	34. Motivation

“Been meaning to ask.”

“How did you end up watching my stream.”

“Market research?”

“Yeah, I want to broaden my shitheel demographic.”

“I opened up a dictionary to the word “fuckable” and it was just the url for your page.”

“God if only.”

“I zoogled thick and you were the sixth result and the first to not give me performance anxiety.”

“I feel like you’re desperately looking for the funniest answer, hoping I’ll accept it and move on.”

“Fuck.”

“Who, you?”

“Alright alright, I was browsing the cam site. And I saw you were live in the sidebar. And the preview image just had your face. And that sold me on it.”

“And you said to yourself now there’s a face I can cream on.”

“No.”

“You said fuck man I want to brush those sexy sharp teeth with my cock.”

“No.”

“I want her sucker shoved up my ass.”

“Yes. No.”

“Gimme a hint.”

“The eyes.”

“I have fuckable eye sockets.”

“This is going to a dark place.”

“You didn’t deny it.”

“No.”

“I guess you’ve got condescending, sultry, genuine eyes.”

“Like they just see right through you and they’re laughing at all your embarrassing thoughts. But then they’re actually laughing with you and not at you?”

“So I said sign me the fuck up.”

“Oh, I’m definitely laughing at you.”

“In any case you lured me in and I made a fool of myself and you kept me around for laughs and here we are.”

“Hey, it’s a wonder you’ve stuck around.”

“I mean, I’m fuckin’ great, but I’ve been told I can also be a handful.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. Your ass is several handfuls.”

“A handful in more ways than one damn it you beat me to it.”

“I guess a benefit to low self esteem is that you already take a lot of shit from yourself so it doesn’t matter as much from others sometimes?”

“You make it sound like I’m the big bad bitch beating on Tiny crippled Tim.”

“For tuppence I might yet live another day.”

“Hey, I take it easy on you. You couldn’t handle me. All of me.”

“Yeah we just went over that.”

“You haven’t even tried to grab my ass once and I take great offense to this. Respecting me like a damn person? Fuckin’ gross.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it. You’re asking me to catch the moon with a teaspoon.”

“You lack ambition.”


	35. Circumstantial

“Headed down to Neil’s truck, either of you bums wanna come with?” It was getting late, but Avo had just reached the lobby and surveyed her slim pickings in the form of two aardwolves. 

The siblings were similarly slumped on the couch with some talk show running on the TV. Wolter scratched his chin lazily and smirked at her. “Sorry, babe, I’m watching my calories.” Anneke suppressed a snort nearby, though laughing more at him than with him.

Crossing her arms, Avo gave him a skeptical grimace. “Since fuckin’ when do you diet.” 

Before he could respond, Anneke was up and gossiping. “You know the snow leopards at Packer’s?” Avo felt an amused tug at the side of her mouth, knowing full well where this was going. Anneke followed up, just in case, “Yeah, he struck out with the girl big time.”

Avo put on an expression of fake pity, making a repeated tsk sound to really sell it. “He’s taking it hard, eh.“ She then hissed through her teeth sarcastically, “Ooo, poor choice of words. He’s not going to be taking anything or anyone hard from the sound of things.”

Letting his head drop to the side, Wolter groaned, “Just the confidence boost I needed, thanks, Avo.”

Avo plopped herself onto the couch next to him now that Anneke had vacated the spot and gave him a couple vicious sympathy pats, “Hey, there are girls out there who like a bit of fluff.”

“Ugh, don’t use that word,” Anneke grumbled, looking away in distaste.

Straightening up, Avo mouthed to him incredulously, “Still?”

He replied with a half-amused, half-exhausted smirk and exhaled the words, “Oh ho ho, yeah.”

Avo sighed, but clapping her hands once, she stood from the couch. “Well, Wolt’s out.” She pointed to his sister, still ruminating on something. “You in, Annie?”

Shaking herself out of whatever headspace she was in, Anneke looked at her as if she’d forgotten what the question even was. Just as Avo’d opened her mouth to reiterate, Anneke pointed a finger at her as if to communicate she’d remembered after all. She then pondered the proposal for a second before finally deciding with a shrug, “Eh, alright. Can’t pass up the good shit.”

As they proceeded to the door, Wolter called out behind them, “Hey, how about you take pity on me and we make out when you get back so I can at least taste the fish.” Anneke shook her head in secondhand embarrassment and left the lobby.

Before leaving, Avo gave him a rude grin over her shoulder on the way out and teased, “Not a chance, dadbod.”

***

Halfway to Clipperships, which seemed to become Neil’s new go-to spot, and the two hadn't spoken a word. At least, until Anneke casually started, “So...” She trailed off somewhat awkwardly.

“So,” Avo dryly replied.

“The Box is still closed up,” she picked up. “What’ve you been doing?”

“Well, besides your brother,” Avo smugly quipped.

Annie rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Fuck, no, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“I’ve been doing my cam show more often. Y’know, trying to broaden my demographic or something.

Annie gave her a curt laugh, “I had noticed Wolt’s been holed up with his computer more often than usual.”

“I’m flattered,” Avo replied, feigning pleasant surprise. After a moment, she asked, “You ever considered doing shows?” Anneke quickly looked at her, an inscrutable expression on her face. Unsure what to make of it, Avo continued with a shrug, “Seem like you’d be a natural.”

“It’s not the same without someone else,” Annie reasoned after what seemed to be some legitimate consideration. “Plus, sex is like a hobby for me. I mean, a hobby I’m really passionate about,” she emphasized, for clarity, “but still a hobby. Can’t imagine treating it like a job.” Following a pause, she added a, “No offense.”

“Fair enough, and none taken.”

Not much to say after that. They continued their mildly uncomfortable trek, passing by the familiar shops and apartments. Streets seemed pretty empty for the most part. Luckily they could see Neil’s truck just up ahead now. Just then, a nagging thought crossed Anneke’s mind as they approached. “If you’re on a budget, should you be ordering out still?”

“Neil owes me.”

Anneke raised an eyebrow to her. “Oh really?”

Somehow Avo’s sly grin widened further. “Yeah. Bet him a meal I could out-box him.”

Annie stopped mid-stride. “Holy shit, but the guy’s huge!”

Avo turned back to her and smugly pointed to her own jaw. “Yeah, well. Big cat, glass jaw.”

Finally they had reached Neil’s truck. As expected, the scruffy lion was leaning on the counter affixed to the window, sizing them up. By the look of things, he’d been getting ready to close up shop. It may have been an additional insult to injury that Avo’d devised. He gave her a sarcastic smile and dryly asked, “Come to collect already?”

Avo produced a sinister chuckle in response. “Oh, you know it.” Snapping her fingers, though, she gestured down at Anneke as if she were an offering. “As a show of good sportsmanship, though, I also brought a friend.”

Neil scoffed, but he was still smiling at least. Without having to look, he pulled a small notepad from his pocket and flipped it open. Before he asked for their orders, they could see something flash in his eyes, like he’d just realized something. He leaned in over the counter. “Hey, did you two know there’s gonna be a thing at Packer’s tomorrow for the game? Gonna show off the renovations and everything too, a huge party” he attempted to entice.

“Oh really,” Anneke tried to sound somewhat interested.

Without hesitation, Avo matter-of-factly remarked, “Lemme guess, Martina roped you in,” cutting right to the core. He must have some stake in it if he’s spreading word of it.

“Maybe,” he coyly mused. “I might be catering it.”

Avo gave him a pointed smirk. “Nope, I’m collecting on this debt today.”

Neil shrugged with a chuckle. Then he got a more sentimental look in his eye, “Plus I spend enough time in the place, so I’m always looking for ways to give back...”

Anneke piped up, “We could stop by, scope things out.”

“That we could, though we might have a party of our own in the works,” Avo reminded tepidly.

Neil’s face lit up nonetheless. “Whatever the case, you two should stop by for a bit. Gonna be fuckin’ wild!”

***

Anneke looked up from her taco, as if in sudden realization. Her eyes narrowed. “Shit, he’s not gonna be at our party, is he?”

Glancing to the side, Avo essentially bluffed, “Nah, don’t worry about it.” She honestly didn’t know if Remmy’d be there, but she didn’t really care too much. About time they worked this shit out, anyway, she figured.

Anneke pouted at her, hair bristling ever so slightly, “You better not be fuckin’ with me.”

With a chuckle, Avo brushed it off. As she turned her attention back to her own taco, she spied a familiar figure across the street. She nudged Anneke’s shoulder. “Isn’t that Charlie? Hey! Charlie!” Indeed it was, and the tiny vixen gave them a short wave before trudging onward, no words exchanged.

“Wonder what she’s getting up to,” Avo mused, mouth full of fish.

Anneke shrugged. “Who fuckin’ ever knows.”


	36. Street Walkers

“Did you ever think you’d end up here?”

Isaac glanced at her as they waited to cross the street. The bustling nightlife of Sahara Square was in full swing with mammals ranging from vacationers to residents traipsing about between restaurants, casinos and theaters. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”

As the walk signal changed, Avo chewed her tongue in thought before changing the question to, “Okay, did you ever think you’d be escorting a sexy girl around Sahara Square for a night on the town?”

Isaac marveled at the specificity before simply replying, “Until this morning, no.”

“Cause I never pictured myself getting led around Sahara Square dressed to the nines. And by a bat no less.” As she said so, she brushed at the gleaming golden dress draped over her body. Meanwhile Isaac stared at the GPS on his phone and absentmindedly tugged her to the left. She complied, somewhat begrudgingly, and muttered, “It’s like a teenage Avo fever dream or something.”

Not even pealing his eyes from the device, he stated, “Gold suits you.”

“You’re fuckin right it does,” she grinned in acceptance, “Glad I had this lying around.” Scoping out their surroundings, she spied a bar nearby, reminding her. “Had to blow off a routine bar crawl with Cliff and Neil for this, you know, but honestly couldn’t pass up the chance to come out here.”

Isaac paused in the middle of the sidewalk for a second. “Could’ve invited them along.”

Without even looking at him she could tell he had his guilty eyes on. Like a bit of shakiness in his voice when he starts talking. “Nah, not their scene. Well, Neil maybe.” She smirked to herself. “If I let him loose near a casino, though, Cliff’d probably strangle me.” Out of her peripheral vision, the giant Palm Hotel loomed, like a constant, kind-of-gaudy reminder that, yes, this is Sahara Square. “Anyway, it’s weird. Places like this look so close on maps but feel like they’re in some other city. Out of reach or something.” She paused. “Plus, I never have much of an excuse to come out this way.” She flicked the back of his head.

“Good to know I can function as an excuse,” Isaac joked as they stopped at another corner. “I mean, I live here and don’t find much of an excuse to come out this way.”

“Well that’s on you, buddy. Not my fault you were a shut-in. Or maybe to some degree it was.” She made a subtle masturbatory gesture at him. In the past he’d probably blush at something like that, but he’d gotten used to it after prolonged exposure. Without a reaction, she sighed. “I dunno. I just feel a bit like I don’t belong here.”

“That’s surprising.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “How so?”

He shrugged and gave her a warm smile. “Just thought this place might be, I dunno, more agreeable.”

Unfortunately, it didn’t quite land as hoped. Her expression shifted to something right on the verge of a scowl. “Pack Street’s my home. And my pack’s my family. Just because I’m an Egyptian wolf doesn’t mean I’m gonna feel more at home in this fucking desert-themed moth lamp,” she half-heartedly gestured toward the massive hotel.

Isaac looked up at her with a moderately panicked stare. “I mostly meant climate-wise.”

She realized he was referring to weather more than something potentially speciesist. Her voice evened out. “People like to make a lot of assumptions,” she said, not exactly in reply to him. “Gets to me.” Glancing down at him she gave a soft but reassuring smile.

His eyes still seemed shaky, but he looked at the GPS again. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to touch a sore spot.”

She patted him on the back, sending him scooting forward slightly faster. “Nah, I’m okay. Besides, I don’t think you’ve got it in you to touch any of my spots.”

“I know that’s innuendo and an insult but also thank you,” he admitted earnestly.

“Denada.”

The small crowd began to shuffle across the street again. Isaac tapped the edge of his phone with his talon a couple times, loud enough that it could still be heard in close proximity amidst the city ambience. He gave her a wry look. “Glad you call it a moth lamp, too, cause that is exactly why I stay indoors with the blinds shut and the lights off like some kind of weirdo hermit.”

Her face scrunched into a pained smile, half like she’d stepped in something and half in amusement. “Can’t just throw more backhanded compliment-insults or whatever at yourself right after I do. Bad manners.” She tussled his hair and muttered, “Makes me feel like a bully.”

“I once heard you kicked people’s asses,” he calmly replied, attempting to fix his coiffure with one talon. 

“Ass kicking is not limited to bullies,” she explained in a fake huff, poking his shoulder at various points for emphasis. “And the recipients had it coming, I can assure you.” He tossed his head back to give her a skeptical grimace, one that she met with a mischievous smile. “So, are you going to take me back to the bat cave after this.”

“Fuck no,” he chuckled in firm denial. Would’ve been rude if he hadn’t followed up with, “You set foot in there and you’ll just see me as even more of a nutcase.” Although it was still rather rude.

Avo’s ears twitched with mild irritation layered over genuine intrigue. “Is this reverse psychology to make me more interested, because frankly on some level it’s working.”

“It’s really not,” Isaac cautioned, but in confusion questioned, “Or, it is?” Unable to figure out the reverse psychology of his answer, he finally settled on a simple, “No.”

“Fine, mister mysterious,” she teased. Slowly the architecture around the seemed to have shifted to almost a Greco-Roman style. The change had been gradual and subtle enough that she hadn’t noticed until they were fully enclosed by it. A massive building stood before them, a mix of glass and surprisingly detailed columns. Emblazoned on the structure in a fancy font higher up was “The Antony.” Through the doors she could see the slots and the tables and the poor saps stuck working in togas and tunics, but also a lot of statues and installations. If it weren’t a capitalistic monstrosity sucking people dry, it’d be a pretty damn impressive setup. Though maybe that’s the fun part.

“And we’re here...” he exhaled with relief and perhaps undue enthusiasm. “Always hear about this place.”

She gripped his shoulders like a boxing coach, ironically tensing him up. “Guess we’ll just gamble away your savings tonight.”

“Not doing that either.”

With a smile, she jostled him and asked, “Do I frighten you?”

“You give me a unique anxiety that somehow cancels out my other anxieties,” he dourly replied.

She leaned in and whispered, “That’s called sexual frustration, nerd.”

In response, he shook his head with an exhausted grimace. “No.”

She scoffed in disapproval, pulling back up. “C’mon, live a little. And by that I mean let me live through you cause I’m fucking broke.”

“I just wanted to finally see the place, mostly,” he shrugged.

“Mmm, we’ll see how long you can resist Lady Luck’s sweet siren call.” She let go and swished her tail past him walking toward the entrance. “She’s a temptress.”

Sighing, he followed her in. “And by Lady Luck you mean your nagging over my shoulder?”

With a toothy smile, she merely replied, “Natch.”


	37. Wing Clipped

The door clattered urgently as someone fumbled with unlocking it from the outside. After some muffled swearing, it swung open, giving way to Avo and, held like a rugby ball under her arm, Isaac. Though rushing in at first, she gently put him on the first surface she could see, the kitchen counter. Letting go, her arm stuck somewhat to the cloth he’d tied around himself. There was a reddish hue and smelled of iron. Her snout crinkled in dismay from the scent. She looked over at Isaac, who’d just righted himself into a sitting position on the countertop. 

With a somewhat incredulous look, she made a shooing motion at him, “Holy shit, get to the sink, now.”

“Right,” he wearily replied, turning to the faucet nearby.

As he undid the wrappings, she caught a glimpse of the gash. Shying her eyes away, she focused on the blood coating part of her own arm. She’d been careful to carry him in such a way that it wouldn’t get on her dress, but there wasn’t a way to avoid getting it on her fur. It made her a little shaky. “You got anything to-“

“Iodine, medicine cabinet,” he succinctly answered, preparing to submerge his arm.

She hissed in a breath as if in shared preemptive pain from what he was about to do. “Got it.”

As she grabbed the iodine from the cabinet and washed her arm under the sink, he grunted from the kitchen through gritted teeth, “Ngh.”

She returned to him with the iodine and a fresh towel stolen from a pile. Uncorking the bottle with her mouth, she spread his fur out of the way with her free hand. The yellowy fluid dispersed the blood while sanitizing, giving her a better look at the gash. She subconsciously muttered, “What the fuck.”

“I got it.” Seeing her shakiness, Isaac took the towel from her, and after dabbing it lightly around his arm, wrapped it as tight as he could with one arm. With a deep breath, he leaned back against the wall, suddenly aware of just how shaky he himself was.

She held out another towel or towelette for him, dampened with the running water. “Shouldn’t you be freaking the fuck out? Cause I’m kinda freaking the fuck out.”

“Not really,” he weakly replied.

She began to dab at the matted fur but pulled back after a moment, an uneasy look on her face. “Ugh, I can’t.” He held out his free arm to take it from her. She obliged. “Fucking blood everywhere.”

“I’m used to it.”

“In nice little baggies,” she mimed with her hand, exhaustedly walking over to his couch. Crashing on it, she gestured emphatically, “Not gushing out of your own fucking arm.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he murmured, staring at his arm. “The pain on the other hand.“ Just as she’d sat down, he started to shift as if he would jump down off the counter. 

Sighing, she got up quickly and picked him up again. “Here.” She placed him on one corner of the couch. There was no way he could manage a jump. She handed him two small pills she’d found rummaging for the iodine. He took them quietly. Falling back into the opposite corner, she held two fingers to her temples with her head laid back. “So what were you fucking thinking?”

He waited a second before waving his toweled arm with a weak smile. “Thought you needed a hand.” 

Her nose wrinkled with irritation. “Oh no, you don’t get to joke,” she jabbed a finger at him.

“Sorry,” he exhaled to the side. “All I can do when I’m uncomfortable,” he admitted.

She rolled her head on the back of the couch with an exasperated gaze, first toward him and then to the featureless ceiling. “When some drunk asshole decides to slap my ass, that’s my problem. Don’t fuckin’ dive into it, ‘specially if it’s a fucking bear.” Granted it wasn’t a big bear, per se, but size doesn’t matter much with claws like that.

“Sorry, it’s like a bad habit.”

Hiking her feet up on the small coffee table, she mused, “Smoking is a bad habit. That was god damn suicidal.”

Isaac closed his eyes, half-awake despite the pain. “Lesson learned.”

“Yeah it better fucking be,” she grumbled, finally scoping out their surroundings. Meager was a good word for it. Could probably think of worse words. Barely furnished. “So this is your place.” She snorted, “You’re right, I do think you’re a nutcase now, but it ain’t because of your poor interior decorating.”

“I don’t have guests, so I live a little,” he squinted his eyes at nothing in particular and waved a wing, “austerely.”

“It’s a step up from a cardboard box, I guess,” she quipped.

“I’m glad it hasn’t influenced your opinion.”

“Nah. Actually reminds me of someone else I know.”

“A familiar emptiness,” he said, holding out his good arm as if to embrace the air.

“Hey, don’t start waxing poetic like it’s your fucking deathbed. I ain’t having that shit.” She kept her eyes on him as if waiting for a chance to shake him out of a bloodloss-induced coma.

He slumped further into his spot. “Rip, Isaac. He died for that ass.”

“Don’t make me sit on you,” she teased, half-serious. “This ass is going to end you if you don’t stop sassing me.”

He somehow managed to slump even further down so that his chin touched his chest. “Well they say you should put pressure on a wound.”

“Fuck you,” she griped with a chuckle. Looking around the room again, she noticed he didn’t even have a TV. “Came out here to have a good time, gamble away your life’s savings, and you gotta be a chivalrous prick and get mauled.” It’d been lucky they’d been near his apartment at all at the time. 

“At least he looked pretty shocked after the fact. Drawing blood sobers a guy up fast?”

Sighing, she noticed he did have a laptop on the table, right next to her feet. She contemplated whether it’d be rude to ask an injured host to unlock their computer for her. “And now I gotta sit here and watch your sorry ass try not to bleed out.”

They fell silent for a while as Avo pondered etiquette, until Isaac suddenly spoke up, “I am sorry.” She turned to him, as if surprised he was still awake. “I thought I could just push his hand away before it reached you. Sometimes you forget how light you are or how small you actually are in this place. Everyone tries to pass it off as a level playing field, but then reality hits...” He trailed off.

“I would prefer if it just hit you in a figurative sense in the future.”

“Sometimes you can’t help it.”

She stood up quickly, crossing her arms. “Yeah you can help it, you fucking moron. Don’t block a fucking bear. You idiot. You fucking idiot.” 

“C’est la vie.”

“Fuck you.” With one smooth motion, she grabbed the laptop off the table and dropped it on the cushion next to him. He got the message and opened it. As he did so, he gave her a sideways look with an appreciative smile. “If I’m stuck here, I’m raiding your pantry and turning on fuckin’ Zoolu.”


	38. The Proverbial Elephant in the Room

They sat alone in the dark with the only light of the room coming from a faded laptop screen. On it, the words “Are You Still Watching” popped up requesting confirmation. Perhaps out of exhaustion from the prior evening, neither of them made much of an effort to answer it. Avo glanced over at her host who was slumped back and staring at the ceiling.

With a deep sigh, she broke the silence. “So. I know you’re into me.”

To some degree she expected him to get flustered or babble, but Isaac dryly replied, “Really. What gave it away?”

It was amusing if unexpectedly candid. “Funny. I mean like really into me.”

He barely turned his head to her and raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“I don’t know,” she casually remarked, “I just didn’t really give it any thought.”

“That’s reassuring.”

Realizing how it might’ve come off as dismissive, she backpedaled, “What I mean is I didn’t want to make it a thing unless you made it a thing.”

Isaac still appeared spaced out, but conscious enough to say, “I think that’s fair.”

When he didn’t follow up or elaborate, she pressed further, “But you haven’t made it a thing. You haven’t really made any moves.” She loomed over him when he remained unresponsive. “You’re making me doubt my usually unerring intuition.”

He met her eyes and blinked. “Sounds about right.”

“So were you waiting for a moment to strike or what?” She pulled back to her side of the couch.

“Nah, not really.”

“Were you ever going to make a move? Cause there are some very eligible bachelors out there, you know. One’s even next-door.”

After a moment’s thought, he said, “Honestly, probably not.”

Her face scrunched, faking injury. “You wound me.” She looked at Isaac, saw his arm, and realized somewhat awkwardly, “Poor choice of words. Care to at least tell me why?” He shrugged indeterminately. “Did you lose interest? Met someone else? Took an oath of celibacy after devoting yourself to a higher power?”

“Nope. It’s actually more pathetic.”

“I would expect no less from you,” she snidely remarked.

“Ouch.”

“Lay it on me. Or don’t.”

Both of them took a minute to disentangle the conversation, but eventually Isaac sighed. “You really want to know?”

She narrowed her eyes and enthusiastically leaned in closer. “Oh I certainly do.”

“Okay.” He sat up a bit, careful not to put weight on his injury. “Let’s preface with this: you know I got anxiety issues, right.”

“I do. Although you’ve been eerily calm tonight given everything. It’s freaking me out:”

He shrugged weakly. “Maybe it’s blood loss.”

“Right, right.” She bared her teeth with a sly grin. “Can’t get a boner if there isn’t any blood left.”

“Now you’re trying to make this hard on purpose.” 

“When did I stop? Also, ‘hard-on,’ heyo,” she inexpressively quipped with a comically weak fist pump.

He couldn’t help but shake his head with a sigh, although a small smile gave him away. His expression somewhat sobered afterward, however. “Yeah, well, the jitters is the tip of the iceberg. There’s more shit I’m still working through.”

“Yeah, no shit. Everybody’s got shit,” she retorted.

“This shit has made me treat myself like shit. Fuck has that word been driven into the dirt at this point,” he muttered to himself before adjusting his focus back to Avo. “It’s to the point that my subconscious has decided I’m basically worthless. Even when people prove it wrong.” He looked to Avo. She had her lips pursed analytically and eyes narrowed. Unable to figure out what it meant, he continued, “Like, if somebody needed to sacrifice their life to safe somebody else, I’m that guy. It isn’t even a heroic or selfless thing. It’s like, that is my place. I am the default sacrifice.”

She encouraged a brief silence before deadpan asking, “Do I need to call a doctor? I feel like I ask you this more than anyone should.”

He stretched his arms toward the ceiling as if motioning at the air in disillusionment, wincing reflexively. “No, it’s not like that.”

“You’re sure I’m not referring to your blood loss?”

“No. Yes. Okay, what I’m getting at is that, so long as I don’t think I’m worth it, nobody else should have to deal with my mopey ass,” he rambled on. “And even if I hadn’t decided that, why would they bother?”

“You see the problem there, right?”

“Maybe?” he replied hesitantly.

Avo theatrically cleared her throat. “First off, fuck you, you’re fine.”

Isaac’s wings fell flat from their previously upward position, nonplussed. “Thanks.”

“I mean you’re doing fine,” she smirked with the clarification. “You got quirks, but hey, so does everybody else. So you’ve got no reason to think of yourself like that now. That shit in the past? It’s in the past. You’ve gotta move on and recognize the person you are now.” She glanced at him to discern whether he was actually following along. His eyes were closed, so she poked him once or twice. “Am I making sense, or are you going to forget all this when you black out from blood loss?”

He opened one eye and sleepily began, “Wait, should I be writing this down-“

“Second, you’re stuck in a loop. Lemme psychoanalysize you this time.

“The tables have turned,” he replied, unamused. “Also, it’s-“

She put a finger to his mouth. “Don’t correct me.” He relented, and she withdrew. “Here’s the thing: if you already think nobody should bother, then you’re gonna continue not to bother, which will keep making you think nobody should bother. You get the picture?”

“Yeah. Though I’m not entirely convinced I’m not hallucinating this.” He rubbed his eyes with his good arm.

She leaned in and almost like a threat added, “I can draw you a diagram.”

“No, I got-“

“Third!” she cut him off enthusiastically. “Somebody once said they give a damn about me. Because I deserve it.” She caught Isaac mid-eyeroll and gave him a toothy grin that stopped it in its place. “It’d be real shitty if that person turned out to not give a damn about himself because he thought he didn’t deserve it. Real hypocritical. But, I know for a fact that I deserve it.” She relaxed back into her seat. “Ergo, he must deserve it too, right?”

He gave it a second, blinking twice, before asking, “Am I in calculus or something? Fucking high school dreams.”

She slapped a palm over her face, leaning her head on the back of the couch. She started out muffled, “Yes, solve for “x” where me plus you equals fuck you, I care about you.”

“I was on board until you got to the caring part,” Isaac muttered.

She put on a weary smile and gazed at him through a gap in her fingers. “Don’t bullshit me, mister. If you were really after fucking, you woulda tried something long ago.”

“I’ve been exposed.” He turned to face the armrest closet to him.

“Anyway.”

“Anyway,” he mumbled almost into the upholstery. “I was gonna ask if you wanted me to call you a ride, but you just got through a big speech about caring about me and it would seem-“

Suddenly, she was on her feet, but only for a split second. In that short period, she scooped him up, twisted so that her back faced the cushions, and fell back onto the couch. He let out a surprised squeak with the impact before she clutched him close to her chest. She could feel his little heart beating through his chest. “Shut up,” she commanded him in the softest way possible. He turned his head so that he could see her face. “Actually, I knew this would shut you up, but I thought it bared repeating.”

He blinked a few times, still coming out of the daze the pirouette left him in. “You really don’t have to-“

She squeezed him. “Shush. You start rambling again and you’ll ruin the moment.”

He abided for a moment but slipped out a, “Thanks,” anyway.

They laid for a bit again before she commented, “If you do make a move, I suggest you do it sooner rather than later, by the way.” Isaac squinted up at her. “I am a hot commodity.”

“Speaking of ruining the moment...”

“How about some seizing the moment?” she bared her teeth.

Isaac opened his mouth as if to protest or make another quip, but he just let a sigh out. She patted his back somewhat patronizingly. “I am going to seize the moment by passing the fuck out because I’m fucking tired and injured and you have really soft fur.”


	39. Premonition

_Several days prior..._

“Are you like the neighborhood watch captain around here?”

“Tch,” she cut through a billow smoke. Before her stoop stood the bat, again clad in his light grey jacket, hood up. Betty was surprised he actually said something. By the look in his eyes, he seemed shaky, like he was forcing it. To his credit, he put on a faintly warm smile.

“You just seem to be out here every time I come by,” he responded, still a few feet away. Gave the impression that he wasn’t interested in lingering, let alone carrying a conversation. Guess that made two of them.

“Got a problem with that, batboy?”

“Nah. Means I get to see your pretty face every time.” Woof. He should save that shit for Avo.

“Heh, eat shit, ya fuckin’ predo.”

He shrugged it off. “I don’t quite get why that’s a thing.” With a shit-eating grin, like Avo’s rubbing off on him, he added, “But hey, maybe I am messed up to think your mug is attractive.”

She waved her paw as if to shoo him away. He gave her one last smirk before starting to walk again. Of course, she just happened to remember, “Oh yeah, I let it slip to Avo that you’ve got it bad for her.” He froze up. Now she was smiling. Taking another drag of her cig, she grumbled, “You’re fuckin’ welcome. Or we’ll call it payback for snitching.” She blew out smoke through a toothy grin. “In any case, enjoy.”

He was still for a moment. Then, his shoulders dropped with a sharp exhalation, and when he turned, he still had the same smirk as before. “Well this makes _our_ chemistry a little awkward.”

Surprisingly smooth. It almost took her by surprise. Almost. She looked at him for a second, then turned her head to the side, drawing the cigarette from her mouth and making a show of her teeth. “Yeah. Now get a fuckin’ move on, ya little degenerate.”

He gave her a small wave and plodded onward. Over his shoulder, he told her, “Thanks for letting me down easy.”


	40. Hangover

He awoke groggy. As he attempted to sit up, pain rushed through his arm. The off-white of the bandages caught his eye. “Right,” he mumbled to himself. Remembering what’d happened last night, he then suddenly found himself disoriented. He was in his bed alone, but he could’ve sworn he’d fallen asleep on the couch. With...

“I’m still here, by the way. I just slept on the couch,” Avo called out from the next room over, predicting his confusion. Was he that noisy or was it canine hearing?

He slipped out of the covers with a small rustle, checking quickly to confirm he was still clothed before walking out into the living room. Taking a breath, he stumbled to the doorway. Sure enough, she gave him a coy little wave from the couch. “You could’ve taken the bed,” he plainly stated.

“Yeah, I could’ve,” she mused, “But I figured the injured party needed more comfort.”

Dragging a wing down his face as if to wipe off the drowsiness, he realized she’d deliberately separated him from her. Anxious thoughts of what he did wrong started to sprout like weeds. He meekly apologized, “Sorry for actually falling asleep on you.”

“Nah, that wasn’t the problem.” She waved her hand as if to swat the notion away. Hearing there was a problem did not reassure him. She flashed a toothy smirk. “You were actually like a warm teddy bear for most of the night.” Isaac felt his cheeks redden somewhat, hoping it was hidden under his fur. Her expression sunk a little, however. “No, the problem was you started clawing at yourself. Didn’t want to be an unwilling victim, so I moved you to the bed.” He looked down at himself and inspected more carefully. There were light scratches all over his chest under his shirt. He looked back up at her, even more ashamed. “Checked the bandages to make sure you didn’t reopen that cut.”

He put a talon up to his forehead, covering his face partially with his wing, and turned slightly away in shame. “I guess I do that sometimes. Sorry.” He waited for a response, but Avo let the moment simmer before speaking again. When she did speak, she had a flat, tired expression.

“It ain’t right,” she said. She chewed her tongue in thought for a second before producing a sucker from an unknown source. She looked at her reflection in the bright, glossy red. “They put us through hell our whole lives just so they can feel like they are safe from a threat that doesn’t exist.”

Isaac couldn’t help but look down at the floor, as if he weren’t worthy to look her in the eyes. “I’m not one of you,” he replied.

“Might as well be.” She gracefully stood and traced a finger over the back of the couch as she walked around it. “Someone fucked up, probably a lot of someones, and led to a fruit-eatin’, doe-eyed bat getting night terrors that, far as I can tell, he doesn’t deserve.” Once she rounded the side of the couch, she stopped and leaned on its back. “All because he reminds ‘em of something they once heard or someone else they also had the wrong impression of.”

He felt his shoulder, out of exhaustion or relief, start to sink against the doorframe. He tried to give her a positive smile. All he could think was, “Hopefully things will change.”

“We’ll be lucky if it does.” She popped the lollipop between her teeth. “This shit comes and goes and it feels like we’re getting nowhere. Sure the latest one is probably one of the worst, but you see how quickly people are like, ‘Oh, we like you again, we’re not scared anymore,’ and then something happens and they’re scared again. How long is it before the next one?”

Isaac finally met her eyes as a chilling thought struck him. “How long before someone uses a nighthowler again to set off some unsuspecting person in a room of unsuspecting victims.”

Her eyes went wide with fear for a split second before she blinked it away, shaking her head. “Fuck me, I didn’t even think of that.”

“We know a cure now, sure, but it’s all reactionary. The damage would’ve already been done,” he continued despondently, thinking out loud.

She crossed her arms and gazed out the window contemplatively, a bright afternoon sun peering through the slits of the blinds. “Fuck, it never ends,” she muttered.

They both fell silent, only for Isaac to offhandedly mumble, “I’m great at parties.”

Avo couldn’t help but snort at the non sequitur, broken out of the dour atmosphere. “You’re like a fuckin’ hangover after a great party, guy.”

Seeing her smile a bit after that melancholy scene was enough to give him some relief. He cautiously asked, “So you had a good time?”

She hesitated for a second, half to make him worry and half to legitimately think about it. Finally, she replied, “Yeah. You know what, it was fun. I enjoyed it.” Isaac’s face seemed to light up a bit upon hearing it, until she held up a finger with a stipulation. “Except for the whole you getting mutilated and then mutilating yourself even more thing. Could do without that.”

He feebly eyed his wounded arm, and nodded to himself. She rounded the couch again. As she did so, he sighed, “Thanks for staying with me. I needed it.”

Spotting the item she sought, she turned her head to give him a quick, reassuring smirk. “You’re kidding, right? Don’t thank me for that. You do a lot of shit for me without question.” She grabbed her pocketbook from the couch, rummaging lightly to make sure she had everything. Glancing up at him again, she full-on grinned, “Besides, maybe this means you could stay at my place sometime.”

“Oh really,” he replied, dryly amused.

She made her way to the door and gave him a comically “seductive” look over her shoulder. “Fair warning: I prefer to sleep naked.”

“Right,” he tried to come across as bored.

She took note and continued, “Just everything out there.” She opened the front door for herself.

“Naturally.”

“Sometimes in lingerie but only if it’s for someone special.”

He looked away disinterestedly at nothing in particular and gave her the plainest, “Uh-huh.” He knew the game at this point.

She stepped outside, but left the door slightly ajar. “And I usually fall asleep after-“

“I get it,” he replied with something between a grimace and a smile.

Only her snout was peeking through. “Also I’m pretty sure I felt some groping-“

“I’m gonna fuckin’ shut the door on your face.”


	41. Just A Number

Betty: Twenty bucks says you can't guess how old [sheep emoji] is.

Al: Oh here we go.

Anneke: Does this qualify as an important message?

Avo: Shit yeah it does. 

Charlie is typing...

Betty: Charlie’s disqualified. And Marty.

Al: Charlie I get, but Marty knows too?

Betty: He was with me when I heard.

Remmy: Guys it’s really not a big deal.

Ozzy: 40.

Remmy: Ozzy what the fuck.

Avo: Aiming a little high there, buddy?

Ozzy: Hey, if B’s offering twenty bucks it must be out there.

Ozzy: 14.

Remmy: Ozzy!

Wolter: 24.

Betty: Wrong on both, Oz. Same to Wolt.

Anneke: This is stupid.

Remmy: I agree!!

Avo: 21.

Betty: Nope.

Ozzy: 15!

Wolter: 23?

Betty: Getting warmer, Oz.

Wolter: Gimme a hint or something.

Betty: No hints.

Al: He’s fuckin’ 19.

Betty: And there it is.

Avo: Ho shit!

Al: You owe me twenty bucks again.

Betty: Fuck.

Anneke: No fucking way.

Wolter: Hahahahahahahah

Ozzy: Damn. Almost had it. 

Anneke: STFU Wolt!

Anneke: I can hear you in the other room!

Marty: What the fuck are you chuckleheads spamming the emergency chat about.

Avo: So, how’d you come about this valuable info?

Betty: He just told us. Straight from the sheep’s fuckin’ mouth.

Marty: I’d like to add that Betty thought wool turns white as sheep age.

Avo: Ahaha what the fuck, Betty.

Betty: Shut it, Avo.

Betty: It ain’t that weird.

Charlie: It’s a little weird.

Marty: Even Charlie thinks that’s weird.

Betty: Fuck you guys.

Remmy: Can I just say this is a little much??

Remmy: Also a big invasion of my privacy???

Avo: Sure. You can say that.

Avo: I mean, nobody gives a shit, but you can.


	42. Shrew(e)d

Avo stretched out on the lobby couch, a pensive look in her eye. Less pensive, Ozzy reclined in a chair nearby with his usual calm smile. Drumming her claws on the cushions, Avo suddenly asked, “You ever think about what life’d be like if you were born something else? I dunno, like a shrew?”

After a second, Ozzy’s face scrunched with a suppressed grin. He seemed highly entertained by what came to mind. Eventually, he sputtered, “Haha, my folks woulda flipped. There’d be pictures of me all up in the papers...” He trailed off.

Avo grimaced. “Not quite what I meant.”

He pantomimed a miniature instrument and delicately strummed. “I’d have to play a tiny guitar.”

She sighed into a paw. “I mean what if we weren’t preds. What if we didn’t have to deal with the shit society puts us through. Would we be the same people? Would our lives be less of a fucked up mess?”

Ozzy leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms with a sagacious nod. “Some heavy shit, mamacita.”

“I’m in a mood,” she muttered.

He started, “Well, if you ask me...”

“Which I did.”

Paying her sass no mind, he wagged a comically erudite finger, “I think who we are isn’t what we are, but what we are is part of who we are. You know?”

Avo raised an eyebrow, suddenly pulled back into focus by the question. “Run that by me again.”

“I mean, like, I wouldn’t be Ozzy if I wasn’t a hyena. Not this Ozzy, right?” As if to confirm he was indeed Ozzy, he gestured to himself. “Bein’ a hyena has kinda made me who I am, jus’ like how bein’ a wolf made you who you are. It’s not everything but it’s something.”

“Okay...” She’d perched her chin on the back of her arched hands.

“So that person you imagine when you think about not bein’ a wolf ain’t actually you, ya know? It’s like somebody else.” He seemed to space out somewhat by the end of the thought. 

Through pursed lips, she gave him an, “Uh-huh.”

He poked the back of her shoulder. “You gotta ‘preciate yourself. No point thinkin’ about a you that never existed.”

She nodded, a smirk somewhere between frustration and amusement on her face. “Mm. You took my introspection, flipped it over into a ditch, then put one of those gold stars that says shit like ‘Outstanding!’ on it.”

Ozzy grinned back. “It belonged in a ditch, dude. It’s garbage thoughts.”

“Ouch, man. I thought I was harsh,” she halfheartedly hissed.

The hyena slapped his knee and chuckled. “Hah. I mean, like, it’s thoughts that make you feel like garbage.” He mimed as if picking something up from the ground before tossing it away. “You gotta throw ‘em out. Live your life.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she replied, defeated. “But hey, maybe you wouldn’t be left busking for cash in that universe.”

He sputtered out a response. “Pfbbbt. I’ll give ya that. And hey, maybe in that universe you actually got singin’ lessons.”

“Hurts me every time.”


	43. Incorrigible

“Hardcore cuddling.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Isaac fiddled with the tassel of a golden throw pillow on Avo’s couch, only half aware at first that he’d even said anything out loud. Realizing that he had, he tried to create a coherent explanation. “Internet makes it easy to get your rocks off, but cuddling, that’s difficult to come by.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you disparaging my line of work?”

“Nah, just a random thought.”

“Mmm. I see,” she mused playfully, not entirely onboard but seeing an opportunity to strike. “I think you’re coming onto me, actually, and that was a suggestion,” she said with a click of her tongue.

“Am I?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” she tutted with a wag of her finger.

He shuffled in his spot, still toying with the pillow. “I’m just thinking out loud. It seems like it should be in demand or something.”

“What, like ‘cuddling ASMR?’” She leaned back, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Anyone can just get their rocks off, yeah, but I’d say the quality of your source material has some impact. Exponentially more so in person.”

“Eh,” he shrugged.

“You doubt my wisdom?”

“I’m just saying I wish it were as easy to fulfill cuddle needs sometimes as it is to wack off,” he hesitantly replied.

“I still get the sense that you’re treating wacking off like it’s comparable to actually doin’ it,” she pressed with an affirmative nod.

“My point is about cuddles,” he calmly protested.

She immediately cut in as if she didn’t hear him, “Have you not experienced the wonders of screwing someone legitimately awesome, Isaac?”

Taken aback for a second, he was catching onto her game. He commented, “I feel like we’re straying further and further from my intent.”

Ignoring it, she barreled onward on her current warpath. “I mean, I’d think that you were well acquainted with my skills. Do I have to prove my expertise?”

He flicked a tassel, trying not to tense up. “Not necessarily.”

Suddenly, she was off the couch and leaning over him. The neck of her dress fell forward, showing off lighter chestnut fur and the edges of her bra. Unprepared for her advance, Isaac clutched the cushion beneath him, completely tense. She jokingly purred down at him, “Are you sure? We could do it, like, right fucking now.”

“We should spare ourselves that disappointment for now,” he murmured, getting a grip.

“Oh, so you really are doubting my abilities,” she grumbled through a grimace, still looming overhead.

“I have no doubts about your abilities,” he tried reassuring her. “I just... don’t think I’d be enough, y’know?”

“If you’re referring to your member, there’s more than one way to fuck a wolf,” she replied, as if it were common knowledge.

There was a slightly scared look in his eyes, but he quashed it quickly. It was there long enough for her to notice, though, and she contemplated backing off a little. She considered that perhaps she’d pushed too far. Isaac seemed to notice that second-guessing on her face in turn and tried to formulate some kind of follow-up. “I’m not necessarily referring to... is that some kind of idiom I’m unaware of?”

“Your resistance is both frustrating and amusing to me,” she sighed down at him. The drop of her shoulders brushed the loose fabric against his face.

He batted the cloth out of the way, getting an inadvertent flash of cleavage in the process. Turning his head to the side, he explained, “I just don’t want to give a bad impression.”

She lowered herself, supported on her elbows, so that her chin essentially rested on his chest. Ideally it was less intimidating, but his expression didn’t change. “See, but now you’ve got me legit curious. Like some kind of reverse psychology thing.”

He continued to look away sheepishly. “You give me too much credit.”

She narrowed her eyes in a skeptical stare. “Now I just wanna fuck you to see what it’s like. Find out what you’re hiding.” Despite her insistence, however, she pushed herself back on her feet and plopped on the couch next to him.

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the cushion. “You probably aren’t missing much.”

“Yeah, but now I’ve gotta know,” she sarcastically whined.

In the meekest, most innocent voice he could manage, Isaac reiterated with fluttering eyes, “I just wanted to talk about cuddles.”

“And people call me a tease.” After a stern side-eye, she relented with a brief chuckle. “Alright. It’s no fun when you’re acting all earnest.”

And just as he began to relax again, she scooped him up with one arm and held him like a stuffed toy to her chest. Though spooked, he admitted, “This is nice.”

A few minutes passed in silence, until Avo plainly remarked, “And you were totally coming onto me.”

“In retrospect, yeah probably.”


	44. Charity

“Then don’t treat me like some fucking charity case!”

Marty insisted, waving a small stack of bills at her. Both their voices were getting close to peak volume. “Look, I’m just trying to help!”

Avo made a sweeping gesture with her right arm, batting the air like she would’ve done to the money, if she didn’t know that’d just send Marty into a wall. “I don’t want it.”

“Excuse me for trying to help out a friend! No, you know what, excuse me for trying to help out a member of my own fucking pack,” he sardonically scoffed. “We know you haven’t gotten a different job and that you haven’t asked Al for shit since. You might have your show thing going on, but losing one of previously two income sources is going to hit you no matter fuckin’ what.”

“And you think throwing money at me helps?” she replied with a sarcastic laugh, dropping her gym bag at her feet.

“Yes, objectively!” he wheezed with incredulity. “Money is traded for goods and services! Goods and services you need to live!” With each point, he karate chopped the palm of his hand for emphasis.

“What’s next, I start up a GoPayMe account for my pitiable self?”

“I’m not saying-“

“Do I go to your sister and learn how to register myself as a fucking charity,” she crossed her arms, “or do I go out and pretend to be one like your roommate?”

Marty stomped, but it failed to make much of a noise. “Hey, you leave her out of this!”

Slightly obscured on the couch, Wolter piped in, “Guys, I think-“

Avo held up a claw and, without looking at him, commanded, “Zip it, Wolt.” Wolter nodded fervently, sinking back on the couch.

“Avo-“ Marty tried to readdress her before she cut in.

“Don’t.”

“Just hear me out-“

“No.” She walked past him toward the lobby door.

“You’re not the fucking Omega anymore, okay? Stop acting like you’ve gotta do it all on your own!” he shouted.

She stopped about a foot away from the door. Her shoulders shook with a weary chuckle. “That’s what you think this is? I thought you of all people would understand having a sense of fucking pride.” She gasped as if in revelation, causing Wolter to bolt upright. “Oh wait, you’re always riding Al’s dick, so.”

Wolter fell back down, blowing raspberries all the way in an attempt not to laugh. Marty gave her a grumpy stare. “Really? Are we really resorting to homophobic insults now?”

“Oh, it’s not homophobic,” she smirked. “If Al had a vagina, I’d say you’ve lodged yourself up in there nicely.” At that point, Wolter couldn’t hold it all in and let out a single genuine “hah” before covering his own mouth.

Marty released an exaggerated sigh. “Know what? Fine! I’ll keep the money.” She gave him a mocking bow. “But when are you going to wake up and realize things aren’t going to be the same?”

“She’s coming back,” Avo replied, starting back toward the door.

“And then what.”

“What do you mean and then what.”

He lowered his voice and spoke plain and deliberately, “Avo, the place had its front window shattered not too long ago. There was a mauling inside before that. And she was the one who did it, whether she was in control or not. It’s gonna stick with people. It’s gonna stick with her.“

“I know,” she replied without much inflection.

“It’s hard work to make a PR recovery from this sort of thing-“

“I know!” she cut in with more force.

“Then you shouldn’t just be sitting here idling. Things are gonna change.”

With a sigh, she turned back to him and gave him the warmest smile she could manage, no teeth. “I’m not sitting on my ass. Just, trust me, okay?”

He fiddled with the money in his paws. “Look, I know I got a funny way of showin’ it, but I do care about you. Everybody in the pack. Hell, even the g- Burga boy upstairs. I don’t want to see you get burnt from this. I don’t want to see you burn yourself out either.”

“I appreciate the concern, but don’t worry about me. If I’m anything, I’m a survivor.”

As if to announce his presence, Ozzy opened the front door and sang, “She’s not gon' give up.”

Confused, Marty gave the two of them a quizzical look. “...What?”

Avo slung her gym bag back over her shoulder and gave Ozzy a pat on the back before sliding to the door. “Perfect timing, Ozzy.” Halfway out, she called out in quick succession to no one in particular, “I’m gonna head to Packer’s. Any takers? Just me? Alright.” And with that, she was off.


	45. No Relation

He’d arrived nearly an hour ago, but Isaac found himself still sitting quietly in the lobby. His present company included one squinty-eyed fox in an oversized sweater (Charlie, he recalled) and some sort of cat-wolf-fox hybrid with nearly perpetual bedroom eyes and a mohawk lounging on the couch. He thought he heard her call him ‘Walter’ once. 

The three had barely exchanged any words since he arrived. He’d asked if either had a phone charger handy, to which they did not. He’d then asked if they knew where Avo was, to which they replied they didn’t know for sure. Only a low volume TV provided ambience for them to offset the awkward silence.

That is, until the scruffy one started, “So are you guys somehow related or...”

Charlie answered nearby, “The flying fox has no direct relation to any terrestrial fox species, Wolter.”

“Oh.” He went quiet for a moment, and then something clicked. “Hold the fuck up, he’s an extra-terrestrial?”

Both Charlie and Isaac stared at him, but Isaac finally replied, “We got the name from other species. We’re still just bats through and through.”

“Right, right,” he nodded, mellowing out. “Kinda... misleading.”

“When bats started reintegrating with the rest of society, the moniker stuck with us.” Isaac cleared his throat, rough from lack of use. “Those of us with more of an expected bat appearance remained bats, and those with more, I guess,” he waved his wings in little circles trying to find the right phrasing, “I don’t know, ‘attractive’ features got labeled flying foxes.”

Wolter’s ears perked up, but his gaze remained skeptical. “Attractive, huh.”

The word simmered for a bit, everyone mulling it over in their own way,. Surprisingly, Charlie picked the conversation back up. “Foxes are stereotypically perceived as an attractive group.” She took a small breath. “Almost universally, that is. Attractive and promiscuous, cunning and manipulative. It’s what society dictates, and defying it shows you, shall we say, a zero-sum game.” 

“For everyone that opposes, another probably reinforces,” Isaac ruminated. 

Charlie twirled her paw in a circle, completing a cycle with each statement. “We convince ourselves; we convince each other; and society stays convinced. Rinse and repeat.”

“You’re opposed to that image, I’m guessing,” Isaac commented.

“In some ways. In other ways, I’ve just embraced it.” She tossed something to him suddenly, landing it at the base of his chair. “By the way, your wallet.”

Incredulous, he picked it up from the ground with one long arm. “How’d you...”

“Classic,” Wolter sniffed.

She ignored the question and continued. “It’s true. I know I’m stealthy, quick-thinking, that my talents contribute well to a career in clandestine activity. But I’m not considered attractive, at least not traditionally...”

“Hey, c’mon, Charlie,” Wolter replied with sincerity.

“This is an objective truth,” she coldly reasoned. “It would be foolhardy to think otherwise.”

Wolter smiled and raised his eyebrows comically, “Oh yeah, well maybe I just happen to be a fool for you.”

“Though your flattery is appreciated, it doesn’t change the fact that I am not the ideal fox. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t imagined what it would be like to present myself more in line with those standards on occasion... but I know it isn’t who I am.”

As she spoke, Wolter’s previous expression transformed to a look of genuine caring. “Serious, Charlie. Ideal fox or not, I think you’re smokin’.” She didn’t respond, but she gave him a look of acknowledgment. Silence crept back in for several seconds.

Then Isaac found himself talking without fully realizing he’d even begun. The result was to no one in particular, perhaps just to himself. “I guess the whole ‘flying fox’ thing is supposed to be flattering, but really it only feels like a way to call us the ‘good ones’ or not even bats at all. And when someone mostly fits the bill but has those differences you just cant escape...”

“Your sister?”

Isaac snapped back to reality. “How-“

Charlie placed an item on the floor and slid it to him. “Your phone.”

“What? I thought it was dead.” Very little power, but it had power nonetheless. Pressing the home button, he scrolled through a torrent of messages from Avo until it fully exposed his background image. He quickly typed up a message to Avo, but kept talking as he did so. “She inherited something from a different line of bats. Incredibly small chance for the genes to just line up like that in our species, they said, but I guess some things blurred over centuries of isolation and intermixing.”

“Interesting,” Charlie replied, clearly contemplating something behind her heavy eyelids. “Would she be interested in a potentially lucrative alternative business opportunity?”

Isaac tried to form a proper response without getting into uncomfortable territory. “I don’t- probably not?”

Charlie seemed to accept it, and with a shrug, replied, “You miss every shot you don’t take, or so they say.”

“Speaking of,” Wolter began, “would she be interested in a potentially lubricative alternative non-business opportunity?”

Here Isaac started to struggle, slowly parsing what he’d actually been asked. “Uh... wait, did you say lub-“

“Fuck, there you are.” Avo appeared at the top of the stairs and leisurely walked down. “Been lighting up your phone for the past hour.”

Isaac rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ah, sorry. I let it die like a chump.”

She jabbed a thumb toward the door. “Yeah, well, you ready to head out, chump?”

He slowly got up. “Yeah. Nice talking with you guys.”

“Likewise,” Charlie mumbled.

On their way out, Avo bent down and whispered in his ear, “You should probably change your passwords or switch banks or something.”

“Ha,” Isaac sarcastically laughed, though as the door closed behind them, those still in the lobby could vaguely hear him say, “Oh, you’re serious.”

Charlie turned to Wolter, who’d once again become invested in the TV. “Did you mean what you said?”

As if surprised to hear anything, he turned to her and smirked, “What? Are you kidding?”

Charlie shuffled in her spot, and the two of them looked back to the flickering screen. “Thank you,” she murmured.


	46. Rainy Day

“It’s just, I really don’t do well with rain. Wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

More thunder crashed overhead, louder than before. The rain had picked up considerably, as if a massive thundercloud escaped the Rainforest District’s monopoly on sudden downpours. After a narrow-eyed stare to give him a hard time, she sighed melodramatically, “Alright. I’ll let you sleep here. But...”

His shoulders dropped, as if disheartened rather than elated with her easy acceptance. “This sounds like a big but.”

She grinned toothily as she placed dishes in the sink. “Well, it’s my ‘but,’ so of course it’ll be a handful.”

“Oh no.”

“Haha, yeah...” she chuckled as if she’d just remembered a moderately funny joke. Crossing her arms on the counter, she leaned toward him. “You can sleep here on two conditions. First, we’re gonna have to share a bed.” Isaac began to say something, but she immediately clarified, “Now, before you think this is a sex thing, let me say that I don’t like people sleeping on my ever-pristine work bed, and I’m not a big fan of couch crashers either.”

“Fair, I guess,” he muttered.

She smiled, preparing to let the other shoe drop. “Alright? Second, we’re both sleeping naked. And before you think this is a sex thing, let me say that it is absolutely a sex thing.”

“Okay.”

“You’re taking this better than expected.”

He held up a talon to signal he was still contemplating. “I haven’t agreed just yet.”

“Oh?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Just weighing my options,” he exhaled.

“Not many to choose from,” she snorted, backing off of the counter and sashaying to the table. “Guess I could pawn you off on one of my lovely neighbors. I’m sure Wolter and Anneke would love to have you, though I can’t guarantee it’d be very restful, take from that what you will. Or I could leave you with Charlie and Marty, but there’s a good chance you might wake up in a ditch or with six figures of debt.”

“Liking my options here,” he sarcastically drawled. 

“So what’s it gonna be.”

He gave an equal parts wry and tired smirk. “I hear Anneke is very hospitable.”

“Aw,” she pouted, “I’d be hurt if I didn’t know any better.”

“Seems I don’t have much of a choice though,” he sighed.

“Sorry, I don’t make the rules,” she replied, moving to the bedroom and swishing her tail. She stopped at the door and gave him a sly side-eye. “Well, I do, and I’m very happy with them.”

Isaac slumped in his seat. “Guess it’s settled then.”

“Excellent. I’ll be expecting you shortly.”

“What if I don’t take my clothes off?”

“Then it’ll be very awkward when I have to take them off,” she purred into a playful sneer.

“I need an adult.”

As she disappeared behind the doorway, she informed him, “There are roughly two in this apartment right now, and I’m reasonably sure neither of them will be of much help to you.”

***

“Oh wow. I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

Isaac paused at the side of the bed, holding a neatly folded pile of clothes with a sheepish look. “What?” 

She gave him a a toothy grin from behind the covers, barely suppressing a cackle. “I can’t force you to fuckin’ sleep with me naked. That’d be sort of rapey?”

No longer caring about tidiness, he threw his arms in the air, dropping his clothes before they would’ve gone flying. “Well, here we are.”

“Yep,” she nodded, still incredibly amused.

Despite standing naked for a while now, it was like the shame finally hit him. He slid into bed and hid himself under the covers with incredible speed. After a second of silent internal screaming under them, he poked his head back up. “So...” He slowly turned to look at Avo, who sat patiently with the most smug and entertained grin he’d ever seen. 

After a minute of simply watching each other, she calmly observed, “Didn’t know you had a sort of mane.”

Isaac pulled the covers down a little to expose more of his neck, glancing at the collar of soft fur around it. “I do tend to keep it covered.”

“Oh yeah, that one too.”

“Ha ha,” he sarcastically replied. “Well, I don’t have much commentary for you, given I’ve seen it all before.”

“Ooo,” she hissed, “what a comeback.”

“Though I do have a greater appreciation for your... everything,” he admitted, motioning up and down.

“Really now.” She leaned in, letting the covers fall slightly.

“Camera just doesn’t do you justice.”

“Then remind me to sock the person who sold it to me in the jaw,” she scoffed. “You can look, by the way, Mr. I’ve Seen It All Before. No touching though.”

He’d been trying to avert his eyes in some desperate bid for some modesty, but gave up. As he glanced back at her, she sat up, letting the covers fall even more. He still found himself meekly replying, “Sorry.”

With a smile, she playfully ruffled the fur on his head. “There’s nothing to feel guilty about. Hell, I even warned you.”

“I thought it was just teasing.”

She poked him on the nose with a claw. “Just because it’s teasing doesn’t mean it can’t also be true.”

“Well I guess I’ll have to keep that in mind,” he tried to yawn.

“Yeah.” As he started to zone out, she snapped twice in his face. “Hey buddy, my breasts are down here,” she joked, motioning to them with an open paw.

“What am I- what’ve I even gotten into.”

“A bed, naked, with the sexiest woman you’ll ever meet.”

“Right, right. That’s what I thought. Well, goodnight, ” he abruptly added.

She rolled over to him and whispered, “What, no goodnight kiss?” She felt him tense up through the sheets. “Kidding,” she admitted, backing off. “Unless you really want to.”

“I’ll sleep on it,” he sighed.

Without warning, she rolled back to him and gave a quick peck on the side of his head before rolling back. “Mwah. Goodnight.”

“Definitely ‘a’ night.”


	47. How It Probably Went

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW: Somewhat Graphic Description of Oral Sex, linked off-site
> 
> Not Necessarily Canonical
> 
> What would happen, if it happened.

https://pastebin.com/hM82Rd0L


	48. Delirious

“Black Mammoth or Iron Canid?”

“Iron Canid,” Isaac responded without missing a beat or looking up from the mixing console.

“Damn it.” Lyle’s muzzle poked through a crack in the doorway, but he eventually gave the door a disgruntled shove.

“What?” Isaac replied dryly.

The goat shrugged and fell on the couch against the back wall, usually reserved for members of the band not currently recording. “Made a bet. Thought for sure...” Isaac shrugged at him, inadvertently showing off his scarred arm. “The fuck happened to you?”

Looking around in confusion, he eventually realized what Lyle referred to. “I’d rather not get into it.”

Lyle scoffed, “Well whatever it was better not happen again cause we have a gig in like a week.”

Isaac turned his chair to face the lounging goat. “Already?”

Lyle rolled his eyes at the dry response. “You’re just sucking the hype right out of me, man.”

Isaac dropped his head to one side and gave him a monotone, “Har har har.”

“Oh, I guess that was kinda like a pun,” Lyle casually replied, scratching at his beard. “Anyway, you can do a lot for having no real fingers, but I get the sense that having only one arm wouldn’t be a boon. What’re we talkin’ here?”

“Nasty gash.”

Lyle’s face contorted with disgust. “Eugh.”

“Yeah.” Isaac flexed the wing a bit. “At least I don’t have to regrow bone or something.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” he replied sarcastically.

“I almost passed out from blood loss the night it happened, though.”

“I didn’t want lunch anyway,” Lyle said and started to get up, slowly figuring out he was doing it on purpose.

Isaac pointed at the marks with a fake enthusiasm. “I could see muscle.”

“And I’m leaving,” Lyle finally replied as he slipped back out the door.

 

***

“Fuck, I still can’t believe it. He’s nineteen, fuckin’ nineteen.” She slowly shook her head, letting small trails of smoke rise from her mouth. “Explains so much.”

“I can’t fuckin’ believe you thought sheep get whiter as they get older.”

Betty winced and rolled her head to the side, glaring up at Avo. “Oh fuck you.”

“Have you never seen a young sheep?” Avo asked her, leaning with arms crossed and her back against the banister.

“Well-“

“What about Sammy Woolworth? Guy was white as fuck.”

“Hey, I thought he just dyed it!” Betty tried to hastily justify. She plucked the cigarette from her mouth and gesticulated with it in hand. “Tried to look more mature, y’know?”

“Oh yeah, Sammy was real fuckin’ mature,” Avo snorted through a crooked smile.

“Sammy was a good guy,” Betty protested, more on her behalf than Sammy’s.

Ignoring that line of reasoning, Avo sighed. “I just... what if some hot young ram came up to you looking for some action, huh? We get on Wolt and Annie’s asses about it, but maybe we should be watching who you bring home too,” she joked.

Betty grunted, taking another drag of her cigarette, “Oh, right, cause there are just sheep lining up around the corner to fuck this old bitch.”

“Hey, you’re hot,” Avo replied earnestly. “You have a, I don’t fuckin’ know, an aura of hard-to-get-ness. Guys should be begging on their knees for a piece of that.” Avo stared off into space for a second. It took her a moment to notice Betty was giving her a judgmental look. Avo emphatically gestured with both hands to Betty’s legs. “Who wouldn’t want to be smothered between dem gams?”

Betty blew smoke at her, unsatisfied, and turned her gaze back to the pavement. “Someone with a fragile ego, or a fragile neck.”

“All I’m saying is I wouldn’t put it past some young horny ram to want to get with that, okay?”

“I think you’re projecting.”

Avo sarcastically held a hand to her chest as if sharing a touching moment. “Aw, B, you already know I’m horny for you.”

“Nah, I mean the ram fantasies,” she turned her head enough to show Avo a vicious grin, “Miss Offered-Cormo-a-BJ.”

“What are you-“ Avo started before she unfortunately remembered. “Oh no, he did not. That asshole, did he fuckin’ brag about that? I swear, next time I see him...”

“Hah,” Betty gave a curt laugh, “While I’d love to see what you’d do to him, he didn’t tell me. Well, not deliberately.”

“Oh really,” Avo replied skeptically to her cryptic answer.

“Remember when he was sick right after that big blowup with Al?”

Avo scoffed, “The one where he called you a bitch?”

“Yeah. That one, thanks,” Betty grunted back. “Guy was delirious most of the time, and he had a tendency to talk gibberish in his sleep. Couple strings of words, though. They stood out.”

“Don’t tell me he was having a fucking wet dream about me,” Avo shuddered.

Betty held her paws up in defense. “Hey, I don’t know.”

“It was just teasing, I fucking swear. I’d met the guy twice, maybe three times at that point.”

“Mhm,” Betty hummed, wrapping her lips around the cigarette again.

“Don’t give me that shit.”

“Mhm.”

“Fuck you,” Avo sighed.


	49. Dreams

It should’ve been me.

She was a person. 

She had dreams.

It should’ve been meShe was too valuable.

It should have been me.

Why did I live?

I’m not her.I’m not her.  
It should have been

But she was a personShe was a personShe was a personI’m not herShe was a personIt should’ve been meIt should have been meI’m not herIt should’ve been meIt should have been meIt should have been me

Isaac awoke with a silent gasp. Delirious, he couldn’t remember where he was or what was happening. He noticed the slope of Avo’s back under the covers next to him. Looking down at his chest, he could see faint trails in the fur of light scratches. He took a cleansing breath. After a moment, he closed his eyes again.

 

Avo, eyes sullen and half-awake, gazed through the dark at an empty space on the wall before doing the same.


	50. A Good Doctor

“Auntie Avo, Auntie Avo!”

Avo nearly jumped, but smiled as she dropped her gym bag on the sidewalk and swerved, paws firmly on her hips. A little black wolf with a white streak on his face ran excitedly toward her. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite neighborhood ankle-biter,” she cooed. “What’s up, pup?”

He reached the square of the sidewalk ahead of her and stumbled a little trying to stop himself. “I wanned to ask you somefin’!”

“Oh? Does it have to do with one of these?” As if out of thin air, she materialized an orange lollipop in her hand. The pup looked in awe at the magical sweet. In truth, she’d pulled it out of the bag and held it in her paw against her hip before he could see. It was like a ritual to give the little guy a lollipop whenever they crossed paths, though never more than one a day, she made sure.

“Yay! Thanks, Auntie Avo!” the boy cheered, eagerly grasping it from her outstretched hand. He cradled it then like a delicate treasure.

“Don’t mention it. Like, actually don’t tell anyone I gave you that,” she half-legitimately requested. If she were outed as his supplier, she was sure she’d get an earful.

“Okay!” He looked at the sucker in his hands for a second, then did a short hop in sudden realization. “Oh! What I acshully wanned to know is what’s your job?”

Avo’s smile began to waver. What could she even tell him? How do you explain to a toddler you’re a porn star and sex shop clerk? You can’t say you make videos on the internet or something, cause then he’ll want to see. Kids are on the internet the second the doctor slaps their ass these days. Think, think. “Oh, um. Hm. My job? What about it?”

“I wanned to learn about differen’ jobs grown-ups have, like fire fighters, an’ police men, an’ ac-choo, ac-ture, acc-“

She took a break from finding a solution to figure out what exactly he was trying to recall. The only thing that came to mind was, “Actuary?”

“Yeah!” he clapped in recognition before remembering the lollipop in his paws.

She couldn’t help but look a little dumbstruck at the recognition. “Who the heck is teaching you about actuaries?”

He paid the question no mind, however, too focused on his own line of thinking. “So I thaw- I thought I would ask all th’ grown-ups I know about jobs!”

“Well, um, my job is, er, my jobs are to...” She didn’t want to just lie to him. Not her style. No bullshit, even with kids.

“Uh-huh?” he bounced.

“Y’see, I guess I kinda...” She rubbed the back of her neck. But she has some level of decorum, right? Can’t just tell a toddler you sell sex shit, including yourself, to weirdos.

“Uh-huh?” his big eyes glistened.

With a shrug, half unsure of whether she believed it, she replied, “My job is to help people feel good?”

He took a few seconds to parse the words, then suddenly yipped, “Like a doctor!”

Avo clenched her teeth behind a stifled shit-eating grin, trying not to burst out laughing. Getting a hold of herself, she decided to roll with it. “Yes. Like a doctor. Just call me Dr. Auntie Avo”

“An’ you give me lollipops too, jus’ like th’ doctor.” He waved the sucker proudly.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” She ruffled the fur on top of his head.

“Cool!” he exclaimed, afterwards shaking the disturbed fur back into place.

“Very cool. But I think I see someone’s looking for you.” With some relief, she pointed over his shoulder, a little ways down the sidewalk.

The pup turned and pouted. “Awwww.” Resigned to fate, he gave her a quick smile and enthusiastically said, “Bye-bye, Dr. Auntie Avo!” before darting off.

Letting out a breath through a sigh she didn’t even know she was holding, she called, “See ya later, kiddo,” picked up her bag, and escaped indoors before the sucker could be discovered.


	51. The Delicate Art of Seduction

“Isaac, huh.”

“Yeah.” He timidly raised his eyes from his phone, at first unaware he had company. At the landing of the stairs stood a short wolf. Or feline? Hyena? He immediately recalled that guy he’d met recently, the other one who lived here. Of course, this one seemed to have the voice, wardrobe, and mannerisms of a girl. More well-kept too. He blinked twice, nonetheless, in recognition. “You look a lot like-“

“My brother?” She strolled to the couch, eying him up and down. He retreated slightly toward the nearest armrest. She had the same bedroom eyes as her brother, but unlike him, these ones felt deliberate. “Yeah, I think he mentioned you once. But you’d at least say I’m the hotter one, right?”

“I, yeah, okay...”

She elegantly held out a paw with the clear expectation that he should take it. With some hesitation, he obliged with a talon. Without prompting, she said, “Anneke.”

It took what seemed like several seconds for him to determine that was her name, and by the time he did, all he could do in response was an awkward, “Hello.” Suddenly self-aware of his own awkward timing, he pulled back and looked away, shaking on a microscopic level.

Anneke, now keenly aware of his vulnerability, grinned mischievously and prodded the conversation along, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch. “So, I heard you’re a professional musician.”

“Uh, yeah, sort of.” He tried his best to mentally recenter himself.

“That’s sexy,” she bluntly mused, undoing whatever recovery he’d achieved thus far. “No wonder Avo’s got her eyes on you.”

Outwardly, he appeared to have completely spaced out. Only after a second of tense silence, he responded with a delayed, “Wait she what?”

As if ignoring the previous thread, she leaned toward him, clutching the cushion right at the separation at the center of the couch, and asked, “Can I see your wings?”

Isaac juggled whether to rudely continue staring into space or risk further embarrassment with eye contact. Realizing he’d literally answered his own question by thinking it rude otherwise, he hazarded a glance at her and immediately regretted it. Those same eyes as before were locked onto him with an unclear intensity. Whether she was messing with him or serious, he raised a wing slightly just to harmlessly humor her. “Well, this is most of it, they don’t end at the waist though-“

She made a playful gasp. “Oh my, Isaac, are you coming onto me?” Just like that she hit him over the head with a sack of bricks. Figuratively.

Dazed, he loosely tried to put two and two together to determine how she got the impression, but only managed a confused, “What,” in response.

“I mean, if you insist on showing me the full package...”

Two sacks of bricks to the head and he was starting to get shaky. “I’m just saying I can’t show you the entire wing wearing this particular outfit.”

Without missing a beat, she asked, “Then why don’t you just take it off?”

He gave a quiet nervous laugh before deadpan replying, “You’re kidding me.”

Unfazed, she poked his shoulder. “C’mon, I wanna see. Can’t just tease a girl like that.” She pressed a finger to her lips and, in a mockingly cutesy voice, added, “It’s very rude.”

Taking a deep breath, he repeatedly muttered, “Nope, nope.”

She seemed to get a kick out of his reaction and kept the pressure on. “Cute, funny, artsy, not to mention the wings. You know what they say about mammals with big wings...” she said, somehow adding even more bedroom to her bedroom eyes.

Isaac wasn’t able to witness the shift, attempting to distract himself from the situation at hand with his phone in vain. “I don’t know?”

Suddenly there was a paw on his lap and a whisper in his ear. “Let’s find out.”

He squeaked and cleared his throat to cover it up. “I’m going to sit over there.” With that, he casually got up and walked to the nearest single seater he could find. At least it appeared to be casual until he sat down and Anneke could see glorious embarrassment all over his face. His cheeks were clearly red, even through the dark fur. 

Anneke gave him a sly, smug grin. “You think I’m hot, don’t you, Isaac? You wouldn’t lie to a girl, would you?”

“I’m not gonna humor this.” He hid behind his phone.

“Why not? After all, you’ve already got such an attractive sense of humor...”

“Are you going to keep this up until Avo gets here, because I don’t know if I can-“

With the other seat now unoccupied, she hopped onto her stomach and laid across the couch, kicking her legs. “What, resist? No reason to, really. Not like she owns you, right?”

“I was going to say if I can finish typing this message.”

“Ugh, really? That’s the best excuse you could think of?”

“It’s a long message.”

“You’re no fun.”

“You said I was funny not two minutes ago.”

“You can be funny without bein’ fun,” she scoffed with a smirk. “Hell, look at Avo. And speak of the devil.”

“What?” Right on cue, the slender wolf reached the bottom of the staircase, frowning with a wary expression. She exchanged glances with Anneke, still sideways on the couch, and greeted her with a, “What’re you lookin’ at, shrimp.”

“Was just getting comfy with your new boy toy,” she gestured to Isaac, to which he shrugged at Avo.

Avo’s scowl switched to her trademark smirk as she let out a single, irreverent laugh. “Ha, good luck.” She turned to face Anneke on the couch and jabbed over her shoulder with her thumb. “Guy acts like a prude despite being thirsty as fuck.”

“Hey!” Isaac weakly protested.

Ignoring him, she continued to a pouting Anneke, “Believe me, I’ve been chipping away at that block for weeks. I don’t think you’ve got the patience.”

Anneke glared at her for a second, then gave Isaac a final evaluative once-over. With a sigh, she slid off the couch and started toward the door. “Hmph. Fine. It was nice getting to know you, anyway, Isaac.” Before leaving, she gave him one last impish smile. “Just remember: if the ice queen gets too cold, I’ve got somewhere warm for you just downstairs.”


	52. Perchance to Dream

“Couple days ago I noticed you were having trouble sleeping.” Her tail swished lightly back and forth, hanging from the barstool. She leaned forward on the cold, round table and felt it shift slightly as if one leg were uneven. They’d selected the table since it was out of the way, but Isaac was still left essentially standing on a stool himself. When a server first came by, Avo’d asked if they had any booster seats. The server had given him a pitiful look. Not exactly that he pitied the bat, but more of a “you poor bastard, blink twice if you need help” look.

“So you saw, huh,” he breathed from across the table.

“I’m no therapist, but I think I can safely say shit’s fucked. At first I thought it was just your brain being all confused between diurnal and nocturnal, but then I remembered that time I stayed over at your place and...” She stirred her drink by the straw, trying to be as casual as one could when asking an acquaintance about their potential lingering trauma. Perhaps too casual, as she almost seemed to get lost in the swirling ice. She let go of the straw before she accidentally hypnotized herself or something. “Anyway, something bothering you?”

“You really want to know?” She nodded without hesitation but stared at him as if the answer were painfully obvious. He gave her a weird grimace and took a stiff swig of whatever was in front of him. A deep breath later and he told her, “Sometimes I see my sister when I dream. And when I do, the guilt just kinda...” He made a series of vague gestures that seemed more cathartic than actually alluding to something. It took a lot of strength to not crack a smirk at the display, but she tried to stay serious. Perhaps on some level he’d been hoping it would distract her, but he broke eye contact, staring at the table. “Okay, it’s like some kind of morbid irony that it was her, not me.” His eyes sunk, but he didn’t have much time to mope before a sudden force nearly knocked him off the stool. He flipped over backwards but latched onto the seat with his wings before he actually began to fall, easily climbing back into place.

Across the table, he saw her holding one paw clenched at her mouth and the other outstretched as if to grab him. It was perhaps the first time he saw her genuinely wide-eyed in shock. He put two-and-two together and realized she’d pushed him, perhaps lightly, but with more force than she knew he could handle. “Ah shit, forget you’re like two pounds or someth-“ she started, possibly recovering from the same near-heart attack he was. As they both settled again, however, she started again, more tersely. “No. You know what, I’m not sorry. How dare you fuckin’ talk like that.”

“I probably deserved it, but I’m not trying to throw a pity party,” he replied calmly, coming down from the adrenaline rush.

“Okay, correction,” she sighed. “How dare you fucking think that about yourself. If you’re so fuckin’ worthless, then what am I? Because, get this, I actually like you. I respect you.” She took a sip of her drink, gauging his expression. “So what, does that make me crazy to you? Cause nobody in their right mind should fuckin’ care?” She leaned further over the table to get right up in his face, using both hands to steady herself on its rocky support. “Well I’m lucid as fuck, and buddy, you’re worth something. I’m not talking about economic value, or societal value. I’m talking about straight-up value. Because I value you. Other people value you. And if a bitch like me can say she values you, then you don’t have a fuckin’ chance of denying it.” 

She gave him a hard look, and after a second, his usual melancholy stoicism began to give way. The corners of his mouth trembled slightly and he blinked with increasing frequency. Without warning, he swung a wing at her. The blunt side of a curved talon softly bumped her cheek. Out of sheer confusion, she backed down onto her seat. “Did you put something on my face? What was that supposed to be?”

“It was approximately a punch,” he smirked despite his eyes beginning to water. “It’s the gesture that counts, right?”

She nodded slightly, squinting out of puzzlement. “Okay, sure? Still what the fuck?”

“How dare you fuckin’ talk like that,” he unsubtly mimicked, still smiling. 

She looked at him for a moment, then drew a paw down her muzzle in exaggerated annoyance. “Oh, god dammit. So that’s your game.” With a sigh, she returned with a smirk of her own. “Alright, I’ll bite. Talk like what?”

“Calling yourself a bitch.”

She stifled a laugh into a snort and replied with dry amusement, “Oh my, I’m going to have to see some evidence to the contrary.”

“Because you’re actually a sweet, charitable, awesome person,” he answered with a straight face and complete sincerity.

The striking honesty hit her along with the sheer dorkiness of the words in a strangely effective combination. She actually felt taken aback by it and took on a shaky smile, like that one would make out of embarrassment. Somewhere between embarrassment and flattery. She cleared her throat. “That doesn’t preclude being a bitch, to be honest. Anyway, did I knock something loose in there.” She rapt the side of her head with her knuckles to illustrate.

“Nah,” he replied with a soft smile, staring at his drink. His cheeks still glistened with some teary dampness. As if suddenly aware of it, he wiped at it with a nearby napkin. “Sorry, I didn’t plan on being a weird weepy mess tonight.”

She flicked an ice cube from her now empty drink at him. “Don’t apologize. ‘sides, it’s good to see you express actual fuckin’ emotions every so often. You know, to remind me you’re not some emotionally constipated robot with a boner for sassy bi- I mean canines.”

“No, that’s still accurate. Honestly you should just say sassy bitches.”

“You literally just fucking told me not to.”

“Yeah, well that’s different. This time you said sassy. It changes everything. Also it doesn’t sound right otherwise,” he jokingly argued.

“So you want me to say sassy bitches?”

“Yes, perfect,” he beamed.

“Sassy bitches,” she dully repeated, as if reading the financial section of a newspaper aloud.

“It’s like poetry.”

“Those fuckin’ sassy horny bitches.”

“Okay, there’s poetic license and then there’s, I don’t know, poetic overkill.”


	53. Once Scorned

“Of course you’d defend him!”

The front door slammed as Anneke barged inside the lobby, Avo trailing close behind. Avo snapped with mild irritation, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, like he’s not another fuck boy for the fuck queen to fuck around with?” Anneke spat, swerving to poke her pursuer in the abdomen. 

Avo brushed her paw aside and raised an eyebrow. “You were flirting with the guy only a couple months ago.”

The aardwolf grunted with disgust and spun back toward the stairwell. “That was before I realized he was just another piece of shit in this shitty city made of even more shit that everyone has to pretend is fine!”

“He’s 19, he’s still got room to grow,” Avo sighed, struggling to find a good argument. 

Anneke found herself spinning once again out of sheer offense at the claim. “He hasn’t fucking grown, Avo.” She stopped and started counting off points on her palm. “We play nice, we try to make him a member of the pack, a member of our fucking family, and he’s still a selfish little... ugh!”

“He’s adjusted, though. He’s figuring things out,” Avo paused, rubbed the back of her neck, and added through gritted teeth, “slowly.”

She scoffed with a mocking smile, “He’s learning, sure, but is he really taking any of this to heart? Cause it sure doesn’t fucking feel like it.” The sides of her mouth twitched with strain. “Hell, does he even consider any of us as friends?”

“I think he’s getting there, yeah,” Avo’s voice quieted to a more calming tone. 

Anneke, realizing Avo picked up on some small change in her expression, wiped the back of her paw against her face as if wiping some of the emotion away. “I can’t deal with him, okay? From day one he’s been a walking, talking piece of ignorant shit. For a while I was fine, it was okay, but now I look back and it’s like, was there ever a time he wasn’t horrible with us?”

Avo tried to approach her. “Look, maybe he hasn’t had the best interactions with you, but you know he went with Wolt to get your necklace back from fuckface, right?”

“Yeah, I also know Al asked him to do it. Guy has fucking tantrums, but he can’t say no, he just hides his neck, nods and goes along with it because he doesn’t have the nerve not to.” She clenched her hands into tight fists, releasing them dramatically as she resumed speaking. “Then he blows up, everybody’s on edge, and then he’s back to fucking normal and we’re all walking on eggshells waiting for the next shit he stirs up.”

Narrowing her eyes, Avo replied, “I’m sorry, but you’re the one stirring shit right now.”

Avo had expected her to be fuming with that accusation, but as she responded, her words felt more empty and exhausted than anything. “I’m not stirring up shit, I’m fucking tired of the shit.” Anneke looked up at Avo. Even from a distance, she could tell Annie’s eyes were starting to water. “I’m so fucking tired. Do you know what he said to me? He said, ‘I had no idea that this is what you were going through.’ He still had the balls to play dumb with me. And if he isn’t playing, it’s even worse! It means he didn’t put one ounce of interest in how I was really feeling when I told him plain as fucking day.”

They lingered on the silence for a moment with Avo unsure of how to respond. All she could manage was, “Oof. I mean, okay, we know he’s a knucklehead. But he’s trying?”

“I don’t care, I’m done. I’m just fucking done. Go make fun of people’s dicks on camera or something, I got nothing left to say.” There was so little energy left in her voice that Avo couldn’t even pretend to be insulted. 

“Annie.” As Anneke reached the stairwell, Avo added, “Whatever happens, we’re with you. Always.”

She blinked a few times without turning, then simply said, “I love you guys, but so long as he’s ‘one of us,’ excuse me if I’m not comforted by those words right now,” and disappeared upstairs.


	54. A Reference

Nothing new, exactly, but I figured this could help put things in perspective. Despite being one of the largest species of bats, Isaac barely reaches Avo's hips. He's barely taller than Marty, even.


	55. Melatonin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter after 4 months? Inconceivable!
> 
> A boring, remote exchange about sleep deprivation? Par the course, really.

“You look like shit,” were the first words that greeted him.

Isaac wearily grimaced into the camera. “Hello to you too.” 

“Oh, sorry. Hi!” she exclaimed with abnormal pep, before dropping back down to a snarky tone. “You look like shit.”

“There we go.”

She couldn’t help but crack a smirk. “No, seriously, what the fuck. What’s with the face?”

He pressed his thumbs under his eyes, then shrugged, “I don’t know, I haven’t been sleeping.”

“Tried sleeping upside down yet?” she jokingly suggested.

“Yeah.”

“Oh. I didn’t think that was actually a thing,” she quietly remarked, more to herself than him. “Well have you tried jacking off before you sleep? Not while upside down, I mean. Unless that’s your thing.”

“Yeah,” he answered immediately.

“You’re getting too comfortable around me,” she sighed.

“Well it hasn’t helped,” he sighed back, ambiguous as to what aspect he was referring to specifically.

“You could try fucking yourself to sleep.”

“Is that an offer?” he asked with exhaustion.

“I wonder,” Avo wryly mused.

“Nope.”

“Ouch,” she replied, despite grinning.

“You know that I know that you know that I know your game,” he wagged a finger back and forth.

“Probably,” she briefly shrugged.

“So you don’t gotta act all put out.”

“Okay, but maybe that I know that you know that I know that you know my game means I’m switching it up.”

He paused to check his mental math. “Then it’s your loss.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, so are you the kind of guy who would deliberately play dumb with a girl who’s coming into you, because that’d just be cruel.”

He held his arms stiff in front of himself like support beams. “I’m too tired for this shit.”

After a moment, she asked, “You know what would help?”

“Fucking you?” he casually remarked, perching his chin on the apex of his arms.

“What? No, I was going to say melatonin pills, you fucking perv,” she replied flippantly with a grin.

“Fair enough,” he mumbled before letting his head collapse through his arms and onto the desk.


End file.
